


A Fallout in Rebirth

by keller_diccless



Category: Fallout 4, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe, Apocalypse, Fallout 4 - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Link talks, M/M, Male Zelda, Male!Zelda, Mention of Child Abuse, Other, Too many characters, Zeligdo, ganondad, zelda with a fallout 4 setting and geography
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-05-15 06:43:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14785469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keller_diccless/pseuds/keller_diccless
Summary: Life was good for newly fifteen year old Link.Even with his town surrounded by an irradiated sea filled with monsters, settled beside the even worse mainland... life was good.He had a dad. He had a job. He had good friends, a good house, got fed well, and--aside from that one incident a little less than six years ago--he had a great life.But his best friend Zeligdo, for some reason, felt as if a better life lied somewhere in the mainland. Where was he, and how could he be convinced to come back?Well... that's what Link needed to find out.(Beta-read by the lovely user JunkTrash!)(Updated when beta read)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the discord for AFiR and anything else I write about:  
> https://discord.gg/gUQcy3H

It's a quiet night on Hyrule Isles, a stark contrast to the bustle of the day's chores. The only apparent disturbance is the whisper of wind rustling soothing chimes on porches. Their sweet melodies pacify those who happen to stir, eager to let sleep reclaim them on this night, the shortest of the year. The only luminescence comes from the moonlight gently drifting into the windows of the town folks' homes. The gentle sound of waves provide a calming atmosphere, one that even gives dreams a certain tranquillity.

This serenity carries all the way to near the edge of the island. One particular person lies tucked away in bed here; unlike the poorer part of the populace, he is the only one in his room. His blankets rise and fall with each breath. Slow, calm, and deep--it's quite obvious that he isn't pretending.

In fact, it’s almost as obvious as the clumsy footfalls outside of his home, feigning stealth as the leaves rustle under their weight. They’d tripped face-first into bushes, a surprised yelp following their unfortunate moment of pain. Grimacing, they puff the hair out of their face and stumble out of the barren shrubbery, muttering some Hylian curses as they go. Taking a moment to hopelessly dust off their fine clothing they throw a weary glance behind them. Only nature calls from the shadows, still at as much peace as it could be; all things considered. Tired eyes drift back to take in the shack before him. One way in, one way out. 

Another puff of frustration has the figure scooping up a handful of rocks and chucking them through the broken glass of the bedroom window. A few uselessly pinging off the jagged shards while the rest hit their mark, sailing into the modest room to skitter along worn floorboards and fall through cracks. 

Yet the boy inside manages to sleep through the barrage of pebbles flying through his window and disturbing the peace within. Pebble after pebble, each seemingly larger than the last, he sleeps through it all. Only when one pebble manages to bounce off his forehead does he stir the slightest bit, but even then he doesn't relinquish any hold of his unconsciousness.

At least until one nails him right in the eye.

Shooting up to a sitting position, pure conditioned reflex allows for a sword to be yanked out of its scabbard and pointed out into the moonlit room. He glances around, eyes nearly shut from fatigue, and stares bewildered as a pebble comes soaring into the room, bouncing off the tip of his sword and falling to the floor. He blinks at the four that follow before realizing what's going on. Letting out a heavy sigh the boy slips out of bed. He edges around the thirty or so more rocks on the floor before blocking the next one with the flat of his sword, just as he gets to the window and peers out into the darkness.

An exasperated cheer reaches his ears, then the sound of rustling and then a huff. A young man's voice rises from the ground, its origin a figure he can't see but knows all too well who it is, "Goddesses, an attack couldn't stir you! Come outside, I'll be out front." Was the only explanation he is given before hurried footsteps drift away.

Within the home, the boy blinks a few times, attempting to rub the sleep out of his eyes as he fumbles around with his lantern, eventually managing to turn it on. Gazing around at the new found disarray he sighs deeply and starts collecting the majority of the rocks. He drops them out of his window for the next time his friend chooses that method to wake him at Goddess knows what time of the night, and then slips on his usual clothing; beige pants, brown boots, a long-sleeve brown shirt, and an armoured dark blue tunic, his scabbard clipped to a shoulder belt. He inspects his sword for any damage before sheathing it and turning off his light, slipping out into the hall. He should have expected this visit from his friend; it has been a while since they’ve had a late night excursion.

However, what he doesn't expect for his father to be awake, but he isn't exactly surprised when the looming figure steps out of the office to block his path.

"Where are you going? Do you have any idea what time it is?" He questions. His father--well, adoptive father--is a man by the name of Ganondorf Dragmire, whose monstrous boots still make him nearly twice his son's height. The office lantern is dim but his features are still slightly visible; thick red hair cut fairly short and brushed back, probably about long as Ganon's middle finger, his face cleanly shaven. His eyes are a bright amber, framed by dark skin and a metallic crest on his forehead. 

His son just playfully rolls his eyes and makes a gesture for him to follow, leading him to the door. No sooner has it been opened when the man from before begins berating him in a whisper yell.

"You take forever, you know that? I'd probably be dead just from waiting for you--" He stops when he sees Ganon, flushing red and nervously laughing, coughing to get his voice to return to normal, "Oh, uh, hello Ganon, sir, I--”

Ganon turns to his son with a small sigh, "You have your whistle?" His son fishes it out from behind his chain mail, a horseshoe-shaped whistle. He never takes it off. "Good. Have fun, come back an hour after sunrise, you know the deal." He gives Link a hug and ruffles his hair while simultaneously nudging him out the door, lips quirking up in a quick smile before he adds, "Happy birthday, kiddo.”

The boy returns a shy smile that spells his thanks, the duo waiting until the door is closed before starting their trek. It isn't long and it certainly isn’t boring; the desolate path provides familiar comfort under their feet, a worn guide that would never lead them astray. They poke fun along the way, years of unbreakable friendship allowing for the only prepared person of the two to be called a slowpoke and sleepyhead without offence. It’s nothing he isn't used to, but he ought to have more credit seeing as his friend, on the other hand, is _completely_ unprepared for danger.

The songs of crickets ultimately give way the lulling waves once more as the Northeastern beach comes into view. The guards stationed are alerted to their presence, one of them inching out to see who--or what--would come by at such an hour. After the guards that it isn't a Mirelurk--or, Goddess above, a Deathclaw--the two are left alone to sit on the beach. 

 

Silence engulfs them as they stare out where the sun will rise, an anxiousness in the air. Slowly, the sky begins to brighten, until Ganon's son can look over and properly see his friend.

Short brown hair with long sideburns frame blueish grey eyes, fair skin over a thin body. His clothes are freshly laundered and neat, a severe contrast to his true nature of boisterous and loud. Honestly, he ran around so much that it was a damn _miracle_ he didn't soak his fancy getup in sweat within the first hour. 

"Isn't it beautiful, Link?" He asks, eyes still trained on the sunrise. Link nods before turning to look himself, raising a hand to block only the sun from his tired eyes. He nods slowly, stripping himself of his scabbard once he decides they're safe enough. With the guards watching, they’re about as safe as they can be. 

He turns and lies his head in his friend's lap, watching the sunrise until the orb of light got high enough for him to see again. At that point he turns onto his back, gazing at his friend with the affection he holds so close to his heart. The brunette smiles at him, using his right hand to prop himself up and his left to reach down and brush Link's bangs away from his face. He tips his head, smiling suddenly at something he's thought of.

"I snuck out today," He explains, sweet smile flipping to an evil grin. Link gives him a droll stare, causing him to sputter indignantly, "What? I wanted to see you! When was the _last_ time we hung out, with you on your patrol duties and all?"

Link doesn't answer, letting his actions speak instead. He turns to his side and hugs his friend around his midriff, burying his face into the printed crest in his clothes, his stomach. He hears a sharp intake of breath but doesn't bother moving; he likes this too much to bother.

Finally, his friend sighs and runs his fingers through his hair, "I miss you, too."

A long time passes, Link's mind becoming foggier and foggier as he tries to get more sleep in before he goes to his patrol post. He flinches awake at the sound of footsteps, hearing them even before his friend.

"Zeligdo!" An angry voice shouts. Zeligdo flinches and curses under his breath, whipping around and keeping Link firmly in his lap. Link doesn't move; he knows what he's going to do.

"Yes, ma?" He asks, too innocent for his own good. A huff sounds from behind him.

"Zeligdo, this is the _last_ time you're sneaking out," Came his mother's voice, "If I find you've snuck out again one more time, I'm going to--"

"I wanted to see Link," Zeligdo cuts in quietly. A silence settles through them, heavy and demanding. It leaves the only sound to be the ocean’s waves cautious attempt to comfort, but only providing unease. Even still, Link tries to sleep, finding the warmth of Zeligdo's body and the slight chill from the early morning sea mist to be equally tiring.

Pressing her lips together in distaste, Impa sighs to break the tense silence and sits by Link's legs, setting his sword aside and patting Link's calves. Link opens his eyes and pulls away for long enough to see her give him a small smile and wish him a happy birthday. 

Whereas Zeligdo had dark brown hair and blue eyes, Impa had natural white hair and bright red eyes that signified her Sheikah bloodline. Even further to signify this were her muscles that bulged more than anyone else's on the island--aside from Ganon's. Despite all this, the two were indeed related.

Zeligdo begins to brush Link's hair again, massaging his scalp with his fingernails. Link releases a soft sigh, his hold loosening as he relaxes, eyes closing and face pressing back into its appointed crevice. Zeligdo hums as he leans down and sets his head on Link's shoulder, his warm breathing lulling Link more and more to sleep until he finally feels the stuffiness in his consciousness that signal he's fallen asleep. Colours dance behind his eyelids, attempting to form scenes for his dreams, but before he could make out what they were, they are cast back into the darkness of his subconscious. It had been like that for a while now, and to be terribly honest he misses the times when he could experience several full dreams before he woke up. They were interesting and life-like to a fault. In fact, he feels like he’s being shaken right now, except his mind is still dark…

 _Oh_.

His body is stiff as he comes to, his eyes firmly sealed shut until he reached up and rubbed them open, his legs stretching at the same time. There are voices above him--Zeligdo and Impa, he believes--and Link continues to rub his eyes until he can comprehend what they were talking about.

"--lurk crab cake?"

"Of course, Zeligdo. You think we wouldn't make his favourite food?"

Zeligdo moves violently--probably in one of his common shrugs--and Link tries not to smile at how well he knew him. "It's both of our favourite food, Ma. I thought you'd try and convince them not to make it so I wouldn't steal it all."

"Again. I know. You’d better _not_. Today's _his_ birthday, not yours." 

"I know." Zeligdo blows a raspberry at his mother before he turns to Link, the blonde's eyes popping open. Zeligdo offers his usual enchanting grin before motioning to push Link off, patting the younger boy's head and commanding he get out of the sand. Link continued to lie on the sand for a minute while Zeligdo stands and stretches, using the elder's hand to pull himself up. He stumbles a little and is immediately steadied by his friend's absentminded hand on his shoulder. Shaking the sand off of his clothes he immediately takes note of Impa holding _his_ sword, sending a rush of possessivity over him. Remembering the manners his father had raised him with, he waits until she's offered it back to him, not wanting to come across as rude. His hands clutch the familiar strap as he pulls it over his head, tightening it a little so that there's less of a chance of it coming off.

This is _his_ sword. And he'd be _damned_ if anyone took it.

Shaking his head from surprisingly violent thoughts--violent for _him_ , at least--Link trails behind Zeligdo as they’re led back towards the wall. The guards (probably the ones on the daytime shift by now if he had to guess) opened the gates for them, just barely wide enough for one to come in at a time.

Well, really, they made it wide enough for _Impa_ to pass through.

Once the gates have shut behind the trio, Zeligdo glances back at Link, eyes scanning over his clueless expression before turning to his mother, "Where are we going, Ma?"

Impa glances back, except it's more of a head turn as she keeps her eyes trained ahead, watching for incoming passerby. "Well, right now we're going to breakfast with Ganon. You can go with Link on his patrol if he's okay with it," This time she does turn her full attention back at him, just for a split second, and he offers a simple nod, "And then we'll do dinner and celebrations proper."

"Oh, cool," Zeligdo replies. Honestly, he probably already knew what was going on, but spared Link the embarrassment of seeming to be the only one out of the loop. If anything, Link feels thankful that Zeligdo practically knows exactly what he’s thinking all the time.

And now that he was thinking about the plan, Link was wondering if perhaps they could--

"Hey, ma," Zeligdo beat him to it, this time on his own accord, "Could we have a sleepover?"

"You thought you had to ask? Of course, if Link wants." She casts a small smile back at them when Link nods once again and adds, "We'll talk with Ganon about it when we see him."

Link bites his lip to brace his courage, swallowing to clear his throat so he can say, "Thank you."

"You don't _need_ to thank me, honey. You're always welcome." She laughs and reaches back without even looking and pats his head, which instinctively follows her hand as she brings it back to her side. He grabs the strap for his scabbard at the loss of touch, eyes flitting towards the people just as Zeligdo looked at him.

Most were people he didn't personally know, just random residents that he'd never quite taken the time to meet. He knew all their faces, though, had exchanged a nod with the majority on any of his patrols.

Yet despite all of that, they all knew it was his birthday. No thanks to Zeligdo, who suddenly grabbed Link's shoulders and shouted over Link's head, "EVERYBODY SAY HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BEST FRIEND, LINK!" Link's face immediately cast itself into an inferno as he desperately tried to press a hand over Zeligdo's big mouth; unfortunately, his height betrayed him miserably. Link promptly gives up to peak out at the people as Zeligdo snickers in triumph. He'd been too busy trying to get Zeligdo to shut up that he wasn't sure if any of them had actually said it--not that it mattered, though he was thankful all the same--but he saw the majority of them give him smiles, waves, and well-wishes.

One little girl in particular--one he recognized with a painfully accurate memory--clutched a flower in her right hand while also struggling to use her crutches to support her weak body. He stopped walking at once, pushed away his feeling of embarrassment, and closed half the distance to kneel down while she hobbled over. The scar on her left cheek wasn’t quite as bad as it had been six years prior and it certainly didn’t take away from the huge smile she was wearing.

Even without a left leg. 

"Hello, Saria," He greets the young child, switching from kneeling to sitting. He holds his hands out to her as she gets closer and uses them to hold up her bent elbows, trying to lessen the strain she was putting on her own arms. Her parents are sitting on the bench in front of their house, small smiles on their faces at the sweet gesture. 

"Hello," She replies, blue eyes shining in adoration. Her eyes drift to Link's left arm and he wordlessly holds it out to his side. Zeligdo, as expected, is there in barely a moment, rolling up Link's brown sleeve so that the majority of the scar is visible. By now it's stretched out with the growth of his body, his skin indented where the scar has embedded itself whereas Saria's was more pinched. He held it out for her to touch and kept a steady hold on her left arm, supporting her in every way. She reaches out to poke it and she giggles a little. 

"We're _twins_!" She says in glee. He smiles, nodding in agreement.

"How's the new leg?" He asks. She looks down with a pout and wiggles her leg, the prosthetic foot staying fairly stationary.

"I can't wiggle my toes anymore," She says. He quietly chuckles a bit, staring at her foot with crushing regret before bringing his gaze up to her, the pain he felt for her blatant in his eyes. He cupped her cheeks and rubbed his thumbs over her cheekbones, then gently pulled her down to kiss her forehead.

"I'll make sure it never happens again, alright?" He whispers. She nods, honest smile never fading, and hands him the flower she'd picked _just_ for him. He thanked her and helped turn her around, staying level with her so that he could easily reach her to catch her should she fall.

Once she reached her parents, he gave them a nod and a small smile and stood, continuing to follow Zeligdo and his mother. Zeligdo throws an arm around Link's shoulders and tugs him close enough to press their cheeks together as they walk, remaining careful of the flower.

"You did as much as you could," He fruitlessly reassured. Link rolled his eyes and averted his gaze, his displeasure for discussing the topic of what he considered his greatest failure apparent. Zeligdo sighs. "Link, you were _nine_. There wasn't much else you could've done."

Link shot him a glare and pushed his friend’s arm off of him, signalling that, at least for now, the conversation was over.

The trio all walk in silence the rest of the way which, luckily, wasn’t long. They make their way to one of the few restaurants--not that you could really call it that anymore--where an old lady named Henya made and sold soups and bowls of noodles. Fledge, a friend of Link and Zeligdo's, was one of her two workers, the other being her equally elderly husband, Rusta. Neither of the boys were anywhere to be seen, which likely meant they were out back attempting to carry in another barrel of ingredients.

As usual, Impa departed from the boys and made her way to the kitchen so that she could see if Fledge and Rusta needed any help with anything. Zeligdo and Link scanned the room until they found Link's Gerudian father--which wasn't difficult, considering his gargantuan size--and they made their way over, sitting in seats beside each other. Ganon glances up from the menu, a paper probably written by Fledge (judging by the beyond neat handwriting that proved he didn't really know what else to do with his time), and offers a smile to Link.

"Happy birthday," He said again. Link returned a shy smile, nodding when Ganon asked if he wanted the usual. Having decided what he had wanted long before they had arrived, Ganon passes the brochure-shaped paper to Zeligdo, turning so he could properly face the boys. "So, are you two thinking of doing the summer competitions again next year?" He asked. They both nod absentmindedly, wondering why Ganon would ask such a question before going on to say what they've chosen to do.

"I'm doing archery again," Zeligdo states as if it were obvious, Ganon nods.

"You know they added the slingshot this year, right?"

"Mhm."

"Have you gotten one?"

"Basically, yeah."

Ganon and Link look at each other slyly and say, "He built one," At the same time. Zeligdo's face flames and he hides it in the menu, muttering _shut up_ just loud enough for them to hear.

"It's not a _bad_ thing," Ganon reminds him. Zeligdo pouts at him over the top of the menu.

"You guys sure make it _out_ to be a bad thing."

"It's an _expectant_ thing," Link says with a shrug. "I mean, you're good at making things."

Zeligdo mumbles something incoherent as he stuffs his face back into his menu, causing the other two to look at each other and shrug with devious little smirks. Link glances toward the kitchen as he sees Impa walk by the counter, carrying a large barrel. Fledge comes around it moments later, his hands red with blisters, splinters, and some blood. He hides them behind his back with a shy smile as he approaches, body shaking a little from whatever exertion he had to endure that ended up being all for naught.

"H-Hello," He greets, "Can I get you anything to drink?"

"Just water, please," Zeligdo says, giving him a glance but too focused on picking something to eat so he couldn’t embarrass himself by the time it came to order.

"Milk, please," Link says, beckoning Fledge over.

The boy inches close, flinching as Link grabs his arm and sighing in defeat as Link gets to work on pulling out the splinters. Moments of silence pass, with Fledge staring expectantly at Ganon. The man is staring off into space, his eyebrows furrowed. Fledge fidgets, opening his mouth to speak and swiftly shutting it as Impa comes over, flopping in her seat unceremoniously. Ganon jumps, glances at Fledge when he realizes it's his turn to get a drink, and says, "Um. Water. Please."

"I'll take the same," Impa says. Fledge nods and waits as Link pulls out two more splinters before releasing him, hurrying off to grab the drinks. Ganon stares at the wall for one, two, five seconds before he finally he snaps his attention back to the others, offering Link a smile that does little to assuage his concerns.

Drinks and food orders are traded (with, of course, Zeligdo failing at his mission) and, yet again, Ganon has that faraway look on his face. Impa and Link have to nudge him at the same time for him to snap out of it and realize he's being spoken to, at which point he apologizes and orders.

Like father, like son.

Link stares at him while Fledge walks away, concern etched into every inch of his expression. Ganon takes a sip of his drink.

"I'm fine, Link," He says once he sets it down. Link narrows his eyes at his father, forcing Ganon to raise his hands in defence, "Just lost in thought, kiddo. I swear."

"'Bout what?" Zeligdo asks, propping up his head by settling his fists under his chin. The Gerudo hums, crossing his arms and leaning back into the worn out booth.

"...Guess you could say I'm homesick," He says. Link frowns and Ganon instantly locks eyes with him, gives him a reassuring smile, and says, "I'd _love_ to take you to my homeland one day. I think you might like it."

"Aren't only women allowed into the city?" Impa asks. Ganon shrugs.

"I mean, _look_ at him. We could pass him off as one."

Zeligdo snorts and narrowly dodges a jab in the side from Link, snickering as he gives Link a once-over. His eyes swivel back over to Ganon and he asks, "What does Gerudo clothing look like?"

Ganon just smiles, "Guess one day you'll have to see,"

Zeligdo pouts, "I wanted to imagine Link in it."

Link manages to jab him this time, "Keep your gross sexual fantasies to yourself."

Zeligdo chokes into a laughing fit, avoiding his mother's hand by a millimetre and leaning back in his chair to try and prevent further injury. He's unable, however, to tear the shit-eating grin off his face.

"You're a bully," Link whines. Zeligdo gives him a charming smile.

"You love me anyway."

Link just crosses his arms, turning away when he realizes he can't argue. Zeligdo's expression softens considerably and he pulls Link in a hug, setting his head on top of Link's shoulder.

With a sigh Link pats his head, giving in.

***~*~*~*~*~**

"Mom was telling me about Dad last night," Zeligdo admits, absentmindedly walking on a mini stone wall in front of some houses. The boys are walking down Link's patrol route for the fourth time, nearing the end of this shift. The sun has begun to lower a little, the early afternoon bringing the worst of the day's heat. Zeligdo is sweating and panting a little, whereas Link feels no effect on his body. Link casts the brunette a glance.

"Get down before you hurt yourself," He scolds. Zeligdo pouts a little, steps slowing before he stops beside Link, who waits patiently. Crouching to sit on the edge of the wall he takes the hands offered to him and clings to them as he slips down. They walk beside each other, silence settling a bit uncomfortably between them.

"What about your dad?" Link presses, once the quiet has stretched on a little too long. _I said get off the wall, not stop talking._

Zeligdo instantly perks up. "Apparently he's a pretty important guy," He says, "I mean... _more_ than we already knew." Link nods. Zeligdo's father founded the Hyrule Isles, the place Link and Zeligdo lived. That in itself was a feat all on its own, considering it was situated on a fairly big island surrounded by irradiated water Northeast of Hyrule's mainland.

"Apparently he also rules New Hyrule Castle," Zeligdo adds, a little uneasy. Link falters in his steps for a moment, not surprised at the news but more at the tone of Zeligdo's voice, at how much he yearns to meet the man.

"You're not thinking of going, _are_ you?" Link asks, "The mainland is dangerous."

"Can't possibly be more dangerous than this place," Zeligdo dismisses. Before Link can argue he adds, "Besides, I was gonna ask if you'd come along."

Link goes silent for a moment--unsurprisingly--and his mind draws a blank. Should he crush his friend's dreams or give him the hope he craves? Link opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again, and closes it.

_Dear goddesses, give me strength._

"...I don't know," He admits. Zeligdo visibly wilts and Link casts him a glance, adjusting the right sleeve of his tunic as he tries to mend his statement, "Of course, I'd _never_ let you go out there alone, but...your mom doesn't seem too keen on introducing you to your dad, you know."

"So? He's not _her_ dad."

"No, but he _was_ her _husband_. For all you know, he could be the worst guy around." 

Zeligdo visibly stiffens and doesn’t miss a beat with a harsh glare. "And for all _you_ know, he could be the best!"

Link raises his hands in defense, ears twitching at Zeligdo's tone as it grew a degree towards irritation. Link drops his hands to his sides and gives his friend a moment to relax, glancing over before adding, "You should ask her about his personality, I think. Get a little more info on him before you run in announcing you're daddy's boy and you get something you're not prepared for. Just because he's King doesn't mean he's got a King's kindness."

Zeligdo kicks a small rock, clearly put-out at the response. But Link’s said all he’s willing to say on the matter. His insides clench in anxiety, at the prospect of Zeligdo leaving him, leaving safety, being alone out _there_.

He pushes the thoughts out of his mind as soon as Zeligdo's arm wraps around his shoulder.

"You're right," Zeligdo sighs, "I guess. I mean, she'll give me a jaded response, but...it's whatever."

"Just don't run off without telling me."

"Mm."

Zeligdo's carefree response has Link elbowing him in the side, making sure not to hit any bones as he casts his friend a glare, "Got it?"

"Yeah, yeah," Zeligdo smiles and bumps Link with his hip, "I'll tell you, don't worry." Before Link can make him promise, he changes the subject, "This is too depressing for your birthday. Let's grab the girls on the way back."

Nodding, Link lets his mind slip out the thought of Zeligdo leaving, burying it in the cemetery of his mind.

Right beside his parents.


	2. Chapter 2

It was decided that the sleepover would be held at Link’s house, as Ganon was far more lenient to the amount of volume the small group generated. For him, it was a welcomed change of pace every once in awhile. Link rarely spoke, sometimes going days or weeks without so much as a single sound; instead relying on basic body and sign language to get his point across. So of course, with his friends over it was not Link who was being loud, but everyone else.

_Namely Zeligdo._

Marin has always taken pride in being the oldest of their group, followed by Zeligdo, Ilia, Fledge, Link, and Colin. They’ve all been together since what feels like the beginning of time and, if Link gets his way, until the end as well. Never have their friendships been broken or too far strained from petty conflict. 

A grand celebration was in the works for Marin’s rapidly approaching seventeenth birthday, officially making her an adult by Hylian laws and standards. Because of this, she and Zeligdo were still too shy to meet each other's eyes. During the ceremony, it is customary for the first two dances to be between the person of the hour the last person to be seventeen, as well as the next person to be seventeen. That would be Zeligdo in four weeks’ time.

Zeligdo was shy over not having danced with anyone aside from his mother, while Marin was shy for an entirely different reason; an easy one to guess.

The group was situated in the basement amongst a pile of old pillows and sleeping bags, lying down or sitting in a small circle. Link was sitting in Zeligdo's lap, trying not to nod off from the day's work, but found it to be increasingly difficult the more comfortable he became. The others were talking around him, their words becoming jumbled in his sleep deprived mind. As conversations blurred together Link’s eyelids grew heavy, threatening to close, only for Zeligdo to wake him several times.

"Link, do you want to go to sleep?" Marin asks, snapping him awake. He stifles a yawn as he rubs his eyes, trying to convincingly shake his head while stretching to wake his body up more. Hiding another yawn he lightly rests his hand on Zeligdo's arm that’s wrapped around his waist, signalling him to let go. Zeligdo releases him and sets his hand on Link's back, keeping the boy steady as he wobbled on his feet to stand.

"Drinks?" He suggests. Colin, Ilia, and Zeligdo request Lon Lon Cola while Marin (albeit begrudgingly) and Fledge ask for Lon Lon Milk. The company's products have practically become a staple in Hyrule, a clear favorite among the people as they are found in every home. Link tries to tiptoe around the pile of sleeping bags, but only succeeds in making a fool of himself as he trips on Fledge's blanket (or maybe a foot?). Desperate to catch his footing he manages to grab onto the stair railing and right himself, not daring to look behind him to the amused faces of his friends. One small inhale and he’s making his way up the stairs, boots brushing on the wood to convey his sluggish movements as he counts the steps. Not willing to make a clown of himself again, just one foot in front of the other… three, four, fiv- _wait_.

Halfway up he stops, backtracks some, and asks, "What did you guys want again?"

Zeligdo sniggers and stands, quickly following and guiding Link up the stairs with a gentle hand. Link hums when Zeligdo asks if he's alright, his head bobbing in a slow nod.

Zeligdo opens the door to Ganon pacing around, effectively stopping the man and instantly startling awake his son--for the most part, anyway. Link's eyebrows furrow and Ganon gives him a tired smile, beckoning him over. Zeligdo parts from Link to go the kitchen as the boy walks over to his father, slipping into his embrace and burying his face in what he can reach of Ganon's broad torso, which ends up being his stomach. Ganon ruffles his hair affectionately, Link can feel the heart-heavy sigh build within him before he even releases it, and how not even their normally relaxing embrace lets the tension loose. They stay like that until Zeligdo closes the fridge, at which point Ganon slowly backs up and peels his son off as he sits in his huge lounge chair, putting them at about the same height.

"I know I've been off today," He says, "Worrying your little head, and I apologize. You don't need to worry about it at all." His amber eyes avert for a moment as if saying _I hope_ , and he swipes a hand over his clean-shaven face before leaning over the side of the chair. It creaks a bit but he ignores it, grabbing a box underneath it and pulling it out. It's a box Link has never seen in his life, and yet it's clearly older than Ganon or anyone else he knows. Despite that, it shines with a radiance that makes him wonder if it's polished every day, not a single speck of dust on it.

Quickly, he wonders if it’s been under that chair this whole time.

Ganon holds the box carefully like you’d think he was holding an infant, with the way his eyes marvel at it in bittersweet sadness. Mouth pressing into a line as if to reaffirm his actions and with the courage of all those before him, he extends his arms to his one and only son. Their eyes meet and, with a small smile, he says, "Happy birthday.”

Link hesitates before daring to break eye contact to move to the box, his hands slowly coming up and grabbing the top. Warmth floods through his veins and, despite his initial reaction to yank his hands away, it only pulls him closer. He feels safety and familiarity blanket over him, a warm he didn’t know he had lived without for years. It increases tenfold as he opens it inch by inch, wary yet excited.

He finds only a thick, green, cone-shaped hat. 

"I know you don't understand the significance," Ganon sighs, as Link's face contorts into an expression of confusion, "And it's fine if you don't want it. Just... put it on for me, at least once."

Link glances up at his father, his hands already moving into the box to gingerly grab the hat. He finds the opening and glances up again, flicking the hat as he held it behind his head so the cone trailed down. He pulls it onto his head, his short hair not posing a problem, and pulls it until it fits snug behind his ears and rests over the middle of his skull. Suddenly, he feels a tightness around his head as the cap shifts and settles, seeming to adhere to his scalp. Panicked, Link reaches up to touch it, a strange, familiar comfort settling in him at the feeling of its wool. He swallows nervously, meeting Ganon's gaze again as the man stares at him like he's seen a ghost.

Gingerly, Ganon raises his hand and brushes aside sweep of Link's bangs until his hair is parted in the middle. The moved hair protests from the altered direction, but he knows it won't stay like that for long. Ganon stares for a long time, entranced, and he sighs heavily.

"You look just like him," He admits. Link's eyebrows furrow and one raises in confusion, but he says nothing and leans down while Ganon reaches to pull it off, to make it easier for him to reach.

Immediately upon pulling, however, Link's head starts to pull along with it. He tries to steady his head, wondering if maybe it's just tight, but it won't budge. Ganon pauses, bewildered, and then lets go.

"Go on, try to pull it off," he offers. Link reaches back and grabs the hat by the tail and, in one swift tug, it comes off his head. Zeligdo is standing nearby with the drinks, a baffled look on his face as Link glances at him, his hair askew and flyaway.

The room is silent, the the box in Ganon's lap still shiny and alluring, yet the feeling of safety and familiarity has gone to the hat instead. Link stares down at it for a long time, trying to make sense of it all. Where did this come from? Why does it call to him? Shaking his head to break his trance, he swallows and places it back to rest in the box. 

"You...don't want it?" Ganon blinks.

"I do." Link states, blinking at how surprised he is that he said it, and with such insistence in his tone. He shakes his head. "...I just want to keep it in the box. Keep it clean...Can't trust Zeligdo, ya know?"

"What? Hey!"

Ganon and Link's lips both tug a little at the ends, and Ganon lets the box shut. Instantly, the smothering feeling has released its iron grip on the boy, allowing him to inhale sharply and snap out of his hazy mind. Ganon holds the box out again and, this time, Link takes it. His fingers tingle where he touches it.

"Can I put this in my room?" He asks. Ganon nods and he starts to back up, only to flash Ganon a smile, coming back over to give him a hug and a, "Thank you." Before promptly dashing up the stairs to his room, skidding to a stop as he looks around for a good place to put such a treasure. After a long debate, he goes to his closet and slips it beside his ‘Box of Important Things’, so aptly named by Zeligdo. He closes the doors and leaves after a minute of staring into space, shaking his head to clear his thoughts.

Ganon is gone, presumably in his office, and Link goes to the fridge to grab himself a soda. Zeligdo is waiting patiently with his arms full of cold beverages for their friends. He doesn't hesitate to flash Link a smile once he’s back beside him, ready to go back downstairs.

Link leads the way as always, his steps light and quick. Marin shoots him a look of surprise seeing him suddenly so awake. Her eyes trail up the stairs in weighted curiosity, whipping around the moment Zeligdo's face starts to appear, pretending that she's occupied with something else. 

Link doesn't have the heart to tell her that she doesn't at all look occupied. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her that the red on her face does _not_ look like just sunburn.

Zeligdo practically glides over and gently deposits the drinks into the middle of the group of sleeping bags, allowing them to safely fall into the gathering of thick cushions. He seemed to care that the condensation from the bottles was getting all over their blankets. Everyone took their respective drinks while Zeligdo stepped over Colin, patting him on the head while he sits down. Link sits between them, more than wide awake now. The iconic sound of bottle caps clicking off and falling to the floor offer a far more welcomed sense of familiarity to Link.

"Well...how're everyone's lives going?" Zeligdo asked, glancing from one face to the next, offering them each one of his scatterbrain-inducing smiles. They all shrug, not really having anything new to say.

"The horses have been a little nervous lately...but I think it's probably just the heat," Ilia says dismissively. She grimaces at Link, "Your dad's horse, especially. She won't listen to a word I say sometimes. I _swear_ she's planning to jump the fence out of the field or something."

"Wouldn't surprise me," Zeligdo mutters. Ilia shoots him a dirty grin while he shivers, something that Link doesn't understand the meaning behind. A moment of silence passes and someone flicks a cap across the room to relieve it, causing Zeligdo to turn his attention to Fledge, "Anything new with you, buddy?"

Fledge shakes his head and retrieves the cap, "Just splinters."

"If you need gloves I have some," Marin cuts in immediately, "You haven't had any infections, have you?"

"Well... I haven't had big ones in a while," He says nervously. She frowns at him, disappointment taking over her features. 

"Then I'll just have to give you my extra gloves tomorrow," She states, tone challenging him to even think of convincing her otherwise. "They're gardening gloves, so they should keep the smaller pieces from getting in your skin."

"I-It's alright, Marin, I--"

"They're extra gloves, so it's no trouble," Marin reassures him. Fledge looks like he's about to argue but, after what looks to be an intense internal debate, he silences himself and mutters _fine_ , his face red. She smiles at her success, patting him gently on the shoulder before picking up her drink and attempting to open it. The struggle that follows leaves her face turning the color of the evening-damn beat red. Everyone’s attention on her proves to be too much for her to handle as she falters from her struggling.

Link, forever the hero, calmly reaches over for her to hand it to him. Taking the bottle he blinks as he also struggles to twist off the cap. He glares accusingly at it he sets it down on the floor, trapping the body between the soles of his boots and squeezing the sides of the cap with the heels of his palms. The rough edges of the worn metal are no bother as they dig into the calloused hands. Bending down and giving a slight grunt at the friction, he finally manages to pull the cap off with a loud pop.

Giving a soft cheer in triumph he shakes his right hand as he finally gets it off and flicks the cap at a grinning Fledge. He confidently passes it back over to Marin, who thanks him with a gracious smile and take a small sip of her hard-earned milk.

"How's, uh..." Zeligdo trails off for a moment, glancing at Link for several moments longer than normal, and he returns his gaze to Marin as the boy settles back down, "How is planning? For the party, I mean."

Her cheeks tinge pink and she sets her drink down, hands linking and settling in her lap. A sigh escapes her, trying (and failing) to appear casual and nonchalant, and she says, "Good, I suppose. My father is trying to convince me to wear a different dress."

Zeligdo gasps dramatically, "But-But--" He gestures to Marin's periwinkle dress, "That's, like, your _thing_!"

She nods, lips lifting in a smile. Her eyes brush over Zeligdo's face for a moment before she catches herself, directing her eyes to her hands and humming a sigh, "Well, they're trying to convince me to wear a white dress. For tradition."

"You mean off-white," Ilia mutters.

"Well," Zeligdo tries not to snicker and attempts to keep his facial expression the same, clearing his throat before giving Marin a once-over, "Maybe you could...make it the same style? Have the colour of your usual dress be, like, an accent colour. Like maybe the bodice or the sleeves or a design could be that colour."

"Why don't you just make it then?" Ilia asked, exasperated at everything he was saying. He immediately perked up, beaming at the suggestion

"Could I make your dress?" He asks, hope bursting at the seams from the soon to be adult.

"Uh..." She blinks in surprise, hesitating before giving him a disappointed smile, "There are less than two weeks left."

His expression turns droll, "Marin, I could finish it in a matter of days. You know what my home life is like, what with Ma pitying me all the time."

"I'm sure she doesn't pity you," Marin tries to assure, "Just because you can't do some of what other people can doesn't mean she pities you."

He scoffs, " _Some_ of what other people can? You should see how she treats me when we're alone." His eyes dash away from her sad smile to the ground, expression considerably darkening. Before Link can even get the chance to ask if he's okay Zeligdo snaps back to normal, smiling and seemingly happy. Not a care in the world.

"I'd be _more_ than happy to make your dress for you," He assures, eyes almost pleading. Marin averts her eyes, clearly in turmoil about what to do. Sensing the tension Zeligdo turns around and flops onto his back, scooting until he can set his head in Marin's lap, grinning up at her from below. Her beat red face turns his grin genuine, even as she doesn't move.

"It won't be any problem," He promises, eyes trying to catch hers. "I don't have anything else to do, anyway, so I can work on it when I'm bored... which is the majority of the time."

Zelidgo sees the sigh build up in her before she releases it. The silence between them is short and light as the debate plays out on Marin’s features until, finally, she asks, "Are you sure?"

"I'm positive."

"Then... yes."

He sweet laugh leaves him and does a little clap, one that shows he's excited but doesn't show quite how excited he is.

"Awesome!" He chants, "I'll start tomorrow! Stop by every other day so I can make sure it’s it’s fitting properly and adjust if anything needs fixing."

"Surprise me," She says with a shrug, "I'm sure whatever you make will be fine."

He blushes a little and thrusts out his hand toward his feet, Link immediately reaches to help pull him up, wasting no effort whatsoever. Zelidgo flips around and lies down on his front, settling his arms under his chin. The process is thankfully long enough for his blush to disappear. He glances up and shoots Marin one more grin before turning to Colin.

"How's the baby?" He asks, drawing a sweet smile from him.

"Dad says she's about halfway there," He says, "So about...four to five more months?”

"What do you think it's gonna be?"

"Hm..." He looks up at the ceiling for a while in thought, debate in his expression. Finally, he says, "Girl. Definitely girl, I can feel it."

"I bet she'll be adorable," Zeligdo gushes. Link can tell he's trying hard not to squeal about it. 

He always did have a soft spot for babies. And children. Anyone smaller than him, really (which was hard to achieve for people his age).

The conversation drifts into other things, often just mindless topics thought of quickly. As time goes on, Zeligdo becomes more quiet, his body inching closer to Link's. At first, the guardsman pays it no mind, so used to Zeligdo’s presence at his side that it doesn’t phase him. But when Zeligdo's head finally settles on his shoulder, he realizes the teen is either riddled with fatigue or has something on his mind. True to his suspicions, the brunette's eyebrows were furrowed together, frustration clear.

Ilia's noticed it, too apparently.

"What's up, Zellie?" She asks. His head snaps up causing him to flinch and groan, reaching up to rub his neck. He leans back down again, forehead resting on Link's shoulder while he comforts the burn in his neck. Ilia’s snickering doesn’t doesn’t go unnoticed, earning her a dirty look from Marin.

"Uh..." Zeligdo hesitates before attempting to shrug, "It's nothing, really. Just..." He fidgets, hands coming back together to rub each other. He glances up at Link through his lashes while licking his dry lips, shaking his head and flashing the others a smile, "Just thinking."

"'Bout what?" Ilia presses. Zeligdo is silent and still, body tense. Eventually, he sits up and moves a bit away from Link; just enough for the blonde to miss his warmth.

"My mom told me a little about...my dad," He confesses uneasily. Link's eyes immediately snap up and Zeligdo gets to work on pulling his hair out of the ribbons he's adjusted around it to distract him from Link's expression. His sideburns flow free and he runs his fingers through them, coaxing any tangles out. Pointedly he keeps his gaze away from Link, as evidenced by the way he turned his entire frame, not daring to face his friend as much. "I was thinking about... maybe going and...meeting him? Seeing what he's like, ya know?”

"If your mom hasn't told you how dreamy or kind he was, then he probably did some bad shit," Ilia spits. Link agrees wholeheartedly, mentally chipping in a few reasons of his own.

"What did she tell you about him?" Marin asks, concerned for him. Zeligdo pipes up a little, just barely enough for them to know he enjoys the topic, and he forces himself back down from his excitement high, a thoughtful hum filling the space.

"Well, he's the leader of some big organization" He says, "And as far as she knows, he's basically the self-appointed ruler of New Hyrule Castle."

"So you're technically a prince?" Fledge asks. Zeligdo pauses, the idea clearly not having dawned upon him, and then his lips quirk into a small smile.

"Yeah," He says, "I guess so. If it's made official and whatever, yeah."

"Well that's cool," Ilia blurts. She looks like she wants to say more, but Link's glare stops her dead in her tracks. She shuts her mouth, comically even, and just shifts her gaze over when Marin speaks again.

"Do you know anything about his personality?"

Zeligdo shook his head and shrugged, "I mean, he's my dad. I'm sure I'd like him either way."

"Even if he didn't agree with any of your own morals?

Zeligdo frowns then, staring at the floor, and when he can't think of an answer he grabs his drink and takes a swig of it, trying to idle himself with something else. Concern creeps into his mind and he’s cornered; like he's being attacked by not one, but two of his closest friends. _Several_ , even.

Link feels bad, of course, but... he can't help it. Maybe he's just being... selfish, as much as he hates that word. Zeligdo doesn't deserve that from a friend, and especially not his best friend.

But then there's the side of Link--hopefully, the rational side--that tells him it's a bad idea for _so_ many obvious reasons. The danger of the situation pounds at his skull and his nerves, sending his protective instincts into overdrive. Suddenly, he's a ball of anxiety and fear that just won’t quit. His eyes immediately latch onto Zeligdo's every move, afraid that he'll run away at any second.

If Zeligdo runs, _how could Link protect him?_

"As long as he respects them, I wouldn't have a problem," Zeligdo admits, snapping Link out of his stupor. Link realizes then that he's lying down, Ilia settling a blanket on top of him, and that Zeligdo has grabbed one of his hands. A strong squeeze draws his gaze back up. "I'd respect his morals, too, so... it'd be nice if he did the same in return."

"And if he didn't?"

"Then..." Zeligdo sighs, glancing down at Link. He smiles a little when Link's eyes flutter, struggling to stay open, and he says, "I'd just be glad to have met him."

There's no response at first, so Link decides it's probably a physical response instead, likely a nod. Either way, his fatigue is back in full force; words clawing at the edges of his mind and darkness at the edges of his sight. All of his sight--oh, his eyes are closed. He opens them again, fatigue heavyset. Words are exchanged, but they're lost to the buzzing in his mind. Something squeezes his hand--Zeligdo's, he remembers--and he weakly squeezes back, scooting closer to his friend--to the friend he needed close to him now more than ever. Zeligdo lies down and lets Link plant his face into the brunette's chest, mind clouding once more before sleep captures him without much warning.

Fear did that to people.

Voices poke and prod in his mind like murmurs of the sea in the morning, steadily growing louder and louder, the sea’s anger rising with its waters. A golden light seeps into his vision, warm, but with it, the voices grow even stronger as the light expands. Unease settles into his frame as the voices grow from awed whispers to muffled shouts. He’s still unable to register a word they're saying, even what language they're speaking in. They grow and relentlessly persist into the depths of his mind. The voices are so loud that they've turned into heavy buzzing, pulling at his ears and mind until his body feels like it's about to implode.

Then, just as he’s about to be crushed by their weight, the light shoots into a bright triangular shape, the shouting turning to fretful screaming and cries of pain. His ears, eyes, and heart all ache terribly, the very pain of those screams echoing within him as if it were if own. He prays he could take it all away from them, make them happy and safe. What could they all be unanimously screaming about in such terror? What’s happening to them to cause them such horrifying _agony_?

As if hearing his prayers, a small, upside down triangular shaped gap appears in the middle of the triangle, swelling as the surrounding light receded. Consuming. Corrupting, perhaps? A blinding flash comes and snap! suddenly there were three golden triangles around the empty upside down triangle, an alluring aura around it. Beckoning. Inviting. Persisting. His eyes lock onto the bottom right one and he immediately feels the screams die down to a melody. A horribly offkey song that's desperate to become whole. However, the same comfort as before threads through his nerve to bind within. The unease is still horrifyingly present, sunken into his bones and the core of his heart.

But his soul... his very spirit, feels at ease, stronger. Connected to a hundred others simultaneously as the awful choir finally finds their missing piece, harmonizing at last.

Oh, but he can definitely _feel_ them. He feels the other people… although he couldn’t possible count.

And suddenly, the once blank atmosphere turns into a bright world full of lush plants and life, the voices and sweet song blending to the rustle of leaves, the songs of birds, the patter of rain, the calls of animals. Everything is at peace, as if there was never any suffering, pain, or misery. A world Link has never known. A world he’s sure no one else in Hyrule ever has, either.

Warmth envelopes him as he watches the assortment of triangles, feeling ease from a force unseen. It brings forth a memory of arms wrapping around him, holding him close. He notices a castle nearby, grey with blue shingles on the towers that glittered in the sunlight. It reminds him of the sea surrounding his home in the early mornings and late afternoons, waves glinting with the rays as they crossed the horizon.

It reminded him of eyes. Of intense, deep blue eyes that saw and understood everything, that enveloped his soul in the comfort he so often desired.

But, to his dismay, the scene changes. The top triangle ignites everything into bright light, a splitting headache erupting behind his eyes. His hand reaches up and he only takes a moment to glance at the golden aura surrounding it before he sets it over his brow, attempting to block the light from his eyes. The atmosphere adjusts fairly quickly, ridding his eyes of their previous stinging only to freshen it with a new kind of pain. Heat rises up from the ground, the sight before him quivering at the burning ash and fire-soaked ground.

Everything is gone; destroyed, caked with blood and fire, woe and misery underlying the terror of it all. The castle is levelled, decimated, with only a pile of rubble in its wake--if it could even be called rubble. It looked more like a giant pile of ash and soot and… _what was that?_

Pulsing around the previous castle, laden in the ground, the veins of leaves, and the bark of trees, the lights of radiation ran rampant. Blue, green, and red illuminated this part of Hyrule ominously, warning any and all creatures not to approach. Or perhaps _daring_ them to.

And yet, as he knew without even looking, even the shyest and most passive of creatures couldn't resist those lights, a beckoning reality of not a single threat lurking nearby. It was barren, ready for a fresh start.

He decided to turn and look at his surroundings, wondering if there was really a purpose for him to be dreaming this or to be here. This--the Guardian explosion, as they so called it--was at least 200 years ago. Why was he experiencing--

His eyes land on a massive pile that's at least as tall as three Ganon's, guarded by several fierce looking creatures that had been moulded by the radiation. But his eyes weren't on them.

Even after he'd shot up and out of bed, body violently shaking with his moans of pain backed with an incredible urge to throw up, his eyes saw only the charred pile of dead bodies, most commonly laden with children, his age and younger.

And at its top, held up like some war prize, was Zeligdo's body impaled onto a spear; shoved through him from between his legs to the top of his head, holding him up for all to see.


	3. Chapter 3

"What's with the look?"

Link drags his gaze away from Zeligdo again, shaking his head. He was on his break--a short, 15-minute water break--while the sun sits at its peak, giving the hot summer day a bright glow. Any other time it would have been comforting, instead of the reminder of hot, all-consuming hellfire. The memories of his...dream? Memory? _Past Life?_ Whatever it might be was still fresh in his mind despite three days having passed, rendering him sleepless and afraid of another twisted vision. That night Link had woken up in a cold sweat from his nightmarish dream, scaring the living daylights out of everyone (except for Ilia, who was dead asleep to the world; so much so that, after Link had vomited into a trash can, he immediately checked her pulse and fretted over her).

Needless to say, everyone was concerned. Especially Zeligdo, who then spent the whole night being clung to by his "weak-stomached friend", as Link had dubbed himself in an attempt to play it off.

It was made even worse that he refused to tell them why. What could he even say? How could he _ever_ put into words the horror he had witness? How would he even be able to look Zeligdo in the eyes and tell him that _he saw him--_

"It’s nothing… _really_!" He adds when Zeligdo shoots him _the look._

"Don't _nothing_ me, Link, I'm _right here_. I know you better than that!"

"... I know."

Zeligdo sighs and stares him down from his usual place on wall, _daring_ him to try and lie again, his nose wrinkling in annoyance. His eye contact breaks for just a moment as an ambitious newborn Stingwing dives in and flies around his head. The pest is more of an irritation than a true threat, which leads Zeligdo to swat at it in annoyance instead of taking any real action. On the other hand, from his place leaning against the wall, Link had the perfect angle to admire at Zeligdo from. In the most innocent way possible.

Until he was noticed, anyway.

"Come on," Zeligdo half whines, half pleads, "This isn't making me any _less_ concerned. If you're gonna make me continue to worry about you more than I already do, I'm gonna punch you with my bony ass fingers."

Link smirks a bit, "You'd break your arm."

"Why, cause of your iron hard muscles?" 

"I didn't even think of that, but yeah, it's a good reason."

"Bullshit, you _'didn't think of that'_." 

Link chuckles a little this time, his eyes sweeping from Zeligdo's feet back up to his eyes. The boy watched him expectantly, his deep blue eyes wide in his silent plead for answers. Link exhales through his nose, feeling his determination to keep quiet about it all slightly slip. Those eyes could make him drop to his knees and admit all of his sins to Hylia herself.

As well as--

"I just have a bad feeling," He admits, "From my dream, mostly." Zeligdo perks up at the mention of that damn dream that's been plaguing his soulmate friend for days on end.

"Can you...tell me a little about it?"

"...Later."

Zeligdo’s hopeful expression melts into one of disappointment, and he sighs in exasperation and flips himself onto his stomach over the edge of the wall. Getting a good grip on the stone he gingerly tries to lower himself to the ground, struggling as he does. Link immediately came beside him, reaching out to help him off as he usually did, but reels back as a firm hand slaps his away. The ridgid glare on his friend’s normally smiling face hurts infinitely more than the actual slap, the weight held in that scowl enough to crush him.

"Hands off the merchandise while you won't talk to me.”

Link blushed as he realized where his hand was, pulling it off and then speaking up as he looked for another spot, "Then I couldn't touch you at all."

"Smooth move, mcgroove, but I'm still mad that you won't speak to me."

Link sighs, "Zeligdo--"

Zeligdo rolls his eyes and lets go of ledge he was handing onto, skidding down the remainder of the wall and stumbling as his feet hit the ground. Losing what little purchase he had, gravity takes effect and forces him to fall flat on his bottom. He hisses at the impact and tries to ignore the pain while he cradles his hand, lightly swatting Link's away again when he tries to help.

Link stands to the side, feeling useless and dejected, and it's not much better when Zeligdo stands on his own as the bell rings, announcing Link's break is over. Zeligdo lightly pokes his palm with a wince. It’s bleeding a little, Link notes in disdain--on _both_ hands, no less.

"Zel, I--"

"Stop," Zeligdo cuts in, voice a little gruff and very unforgiving. Link immediately feels his heart pang, feelings hurt--even though he knows he deserves it. "I'm fine. I'll go fix them up. You have a job to do. Go."

"But--"

"I'm fine, Link. All good."

Link frowns as Zeligdo walks off, making a point to look in every direction but his. Link swallows hard, forcing the sting of it away, and yet, his eyes water anyway. 

When Zeligdo is out of hearing range, Link sniffles and drags his sleeve along his eyes, turning around and continuing his route. He's distracted, which is bad, but things seem fine anyway. He doesn't see anything out of place.

_Except for himself._

The rest of his patrol is lonely, boring, and uneventful, leaving him extra time to over-think and feed the pit of grief within him. He'd seen Zeligdo once since he'd left, walking into a medical store with his wallet in hand. Link wanted to stop by, to apologize, to explain everything, to tell him the beauty and devastation he’s seen. How he knows what his body would look like _impaled and_ \--and why Zeligdo absolutely should _not_ go to the mainland.

But knew he was unwanted; thus, he continued on his way.

Link is thoroughly numb when he arrives home, emotions quelled to the point of nonexistence as he opens the door. He trudges up the stairs to his room, shrugging off his clothes and weapons and grabbing his cleanest towel, which was frayed, thin, and decorated with a big hole on the side. In his other hand, he grabbed a bar of lye soap and a smaller hand towel.

He went out back, which was concealed by a large patch of trees on either side and the large guard wall at the back, and walked over the cushion-like grass to their little man-made pond. A couple steps away from the pond was a bathtub halfway submerged into a patch of concrete, half full with rainwater. He grabbed the bucket beside it and poured its contents into the tub and, with an agonizingly slow speed, he filled the tub with pond water. Once it was sufficiently filled, he hops into the (fortunately) cool water, his hand towel and soap within reach beside the tub.

Taking a deep breath he dunks his head in first, scrubbing the sweat and dirt out of his hair and off his face as quickly as he can. Breaking the back to the surface with a sharp intake and rubbing the darkness out of this eyes, he can’t help the tremors that wrack through his body.

Link could bear through a lot of things in this world; spending hours on end walking the same, neverending patrol route, protecting the village from the horrific monsters that roamed the sea, keeping Zeligdo’s attitude in check (for the most part)… but having his head submerged underwater was _undesirable_ , to say the least.

The very thought brought up bad memories from within.

Shaking his head, he tried to be careful not to splash the now dirty water into their freshwater pond, washing and scrubbing himself clean with as little soap he could manage. Soap was hard to come by these days and it turns the water slightly less transparent and into a murky yellow-white. Reaching up and wringing his hair out, he stands and steps back out onto the concrete, wrinkling his nose as his feet immediately get dirt on them once more. What was even the point of having a tub out here when there was no way to keep clean? Taking the time to dry his hair first, he decided to not even bother wiping down the rest of his body. The towel was already half damp from its uselessness; he should really try to find a new one somewhere one of these days. Wrapping it around his waist instead, he tucks it tight so it doesn’t fall off.

Swiping his garments off of the ground he deposits them into the bathtub, rubbing the soap on his hands until there was a layer of off-white. Taking the time to look for a dry patch of concrete to rest the bar on he eventually gives up and tosses it into the grass. Nothing’s clean anyway. Using the extra soap on his hands to scrub his underwear, he cringes due to the fact he’s worn them for a few days now. Three and a half, actually. This pair would dry while he would find and wear the other pair, and then he would switch again.

Note the _find_ part.

Once he decides his underwear is… _”sufficiently washed”_ , he wrings it out to drape it over the side of the tub with one hand while the other reaches in and pulls the drain plug out. Connected to the base of the tub is a pre-dug pipe that dispensed into another man-made pond where the large water purifier for the island was.

He feared for the day he would find hair in his so-called purified water.

Grabbing his underwear, Link made his way back to the house, ignoring the pinpricks of sticks and rocks that had escaped being covered by grass. Taking a moment to hang his underwear on the discreet-ish clothesline, he attempts to wipe his feet off on his towel before making his way back inside.

Just to find Zeligdo frozen in his pacing, his eyes glued to Link's chest.

The silence that settles between them is heavy and uncomfortable, lingering on far longer than either of them would like. It left Link fidgeting awkwardly and gripping onto the edge of his towel, praying that he had tied it tight enough. He didn’t need the powers of those _Divine_ to know exactly what Zeligdo was openly staring at. He glanced down at the crudely healed burn scar along the left side of his body, grimacing its familiarity.

Suddenly, Zeligdo jumps and turns away, his face so red that Link only knew he was blushing because his ears turned pink. Link fidgets for a while, trying to think of what to even say. How many times has he thought of what he was going to say when he saw Zeligdo again? Why can’t he just _speak_? Finding himself lacking in the ambition needed to make his mouth move he turns and heads up the stairs to his room, pausing halfway at the feeling of a burning gaze on his back.

He only glances over his shoulder when a soft, disheartened sigh and light steps tentatively moving toward the door accompany it. Their eyes meet again as Zelidgo passes the wall blocking the view, his body freezing in yet another pause.

Clutching to the railing so hard that his nails dig in, Link finally musters up enough courage to speak.

"I-I need to get dressed," He says, voice unusually meek. Zeligdo relaxes, probably having thought Link was mad at him for not saying anything before, if his fidgeting is anything to go by.

"Oh.” Zeligdo sighs in what appears to be relief, "I'll, uh... I'll wait down here, then."

Link nods and, after another tense moment, the two turn and move towards their destined locations; Link to his room and Zeligdo to, most likely, the couch. Link glances out of his window before digging through his closet, managing to find a stained white t-shirt, a somewhat intact pair of ripped up jeans, a green hoodie, and a surprisingly matching pair of socks. Pulling his clothes on he quickly rubs the damp towel through his hair, hoping to somewhat dry it. Hanging it over his windowsill to dry, he takes a deep breath and pads back down stairs. He pauses when he sees Zeligdo in the unusual position of hanging his head in his hands as he sits like a normal person on the couch, not even lying down as he usually did.

Link comes around the couch slowly, abruptly stopping when he sees that Zeligdo's cheeks are wet, before the teen realizes he's there and furiously wipes his face dry. But it wasn’t fast enough to keep Link’s heart from falling to his feet in self-loathing and anguish. _He’d caused this._

Even with a dry face, his lip refuses to stop quivering and his eyes continue to fill with tears.

Link drops to on his knees in front of his friend, pulling him into a smothering hug without a word. Zeligdo clutches Link close to his chest, shaking, his face turning away from Link.

"I'm sorry," He chokes out, his voice laced with pain as it wavered, "I sh-shouldn't have snapped at you, you... you didn't deserve it."

Link rubs his back, eyes moving up to as if to ask Hylia above how Zeligdo could possibly feel so bad.

"You did nothing wrong," Link tries to assure, voice gentle and soft, but Zeligdo just tenses up.

"I snapped at you," He said, "For something so… _stupid_. I always snap at you for stupid things."

"It wasn't stupid."

"Yes it was, I--" He shakes a bit, his grip tightening on his hoodie as he lets out an uneven exhale in an attempt to calm himself, "I'm sorry. _I'm so sorry_."

"Zeligdo, I forgave you when it happened," Link replies, his frown deepening when another rough breathe from his friend follows, "It's okay, Zel."

"No it's not," Zeligdo whimpers, "I was out of place."

"No, you weren't." Link moves a hand from Zeligdo's back to his head, with the intent to finger-brush his hair. That was the best way to test his stress level; see how tangled it was, even with its length. "You were concerned and I wasn't telling you what was going on." Link gives up with brushing through the brunette's hair quickly; the strands are wrapping around his digits like string passed through a crowd of children. He frowns, but continues to speak, "And while you were right, I was also right. I didn't want to tell you because I have a reason not to."

"Then…why?"

"It would scare you, and I don't want that."

Zeligdo pulls away, rubbing his face off before Link can see and looks him in the eyes, imploring for answers. Link swallows, as he's always found that face damn near impossible to resist, and struggles to hold his ground. Averting his eyes he gathers the material of Zelidgo’s shirt in this hands.

Telling him wouldn't be all that bad... _right_? It might scare him into not going to the mainland. But, knowing him, it might make him want to go more to prove that it _wouldn't_ happen. He was just that kind of person.

But Link had a knack for being right, for having a solid gut feeling.

Scolding himself harshly in his mind, he darts his eyes back down to keep them lowered and croaks out, "You were dead."

"I--What?"

"You were... _dead_. In my dream the other night." Now it's Link's turn to have burning eyes that fill with hot tears; it's his turn to shut his eyes and duck his head and will for them to leave, as foolish of a will as that may be.

But what's different about him and Zeligdo is that the image is printed onto his eyelids, like a tattoo glowing in the dark. Persisting, seeming to never leave.

" _You were dead_ ," He chokes on his tears, feeling hopeless and small as he covers his face with his hands, suddenly too weak to stay on his knees. He sits on his heels, bowing his head, his body thrumming with pain and anxiety and overwhelming fear. "Y-you had a s-s-spear through your e-entire body, Zel. I-I can't--" He shakes violently as the thought of Zeligdo dying replays in his mind over and over again. That spear shoved through him like he was just a piece of _meat_. The smell of cooking flesh potent in the air, the expression of pure, heart wrenching _agony_ sewn into his friend’s torn features. Link feels his breathing quickening as his panic raises until it’s damn near impossible to handle.  
_Not again_ , He thinks, _I don’t want anyone else to die!_

Drowning in his own strangled breathing, he finally breaks down and sobs into his hands, "I can't _lose_ you! I don't want you to leave, I-I want you to stay with me, where it's--where it’s _safe. Stay here_. You'd _never_ die. Never _ever_." Collapsing, his hidden face plunges into Zeligdo's thighs as his shoulders shake with his effort to stop crying, to make some sense of everything rushing through his head. His mind is filled with the scene he would do anything to forget, unable to decipher what’s real and what isn’t. Was Zeligdo even still alive?

His dreams had become too lifelike for comfort.

" _I don't want you to die_!" He cries out again, his breathing muffled and shorter than his body could handle. By now, his hands had filled with tears that he could smell and taste, with enough salt to season the island's food for the days. “Please, Zel. Please, please, _please_ …” He shudders violently enough to shoot a _new_ fantasy into his mind; one of the actual act of his dear friend being shoved onto the spear. His body falls limp as he throws his arms around Zeligdo’s neck, mashing his face into Zeligdo’s chest. “Don’t _leave_ me. _Please_.”

Zeligdo's hands--which had apparently been placed on his shoulders--move to his head, petting his hair and massaging his scalp with the ginger touch that only he possessed. It sent shudders through the smaller and younger boy, allowing the strong intimacy of this moment to wash over him, to tug him bit by bit back into the comfort he so desperately craved. His cries diminished considerably, his shaking finally receding to a more bearable amount. Zeligdo's arms grounded him and made him feel safe; like no harm would ever come to him.

Unbeknownst to him, Zeligdo felt the same.

"I would never leave you, Link. And I won't die," Zeligdo assures him in a quiet voice, "Not until it's your dead body in the way, right?"

Link has to laugh a bit, the words reminding him of the promise he made so many years before. He sniffles hard and peels his face off Zeligdo’s shirt, wiping part of his face off with the sleeve of his undershirt while nodding as his lungs shudder to pull in a breath. Zeligdo's hand comes to cup his cheek, fingers brushing over his moistened skin in a way that any outsider would call way _more_ than just loving. Link swallows at the brush of Zeligdo's warm fingertips when they drift under Link's chin, tilting his head up ever so gently. He looks up shyly, bangs sticking to the sweat of his face, and Zeligdo gives him an endearing smile that makes his chest clench. Through the last of his sniffles, Zeligdo gingerly brushes his eyes shut and his damp bangs out of his face, fully cupping Link's cheeks. He leans over and, for a long couple of seconds, presses a kiss to Link's forehead.

The serenity and love from such a simple kiss is all it takes to almost calm Link down completely, although the image of Zeligdo's dead body in his head is still extremely jarring. For just a moment, he felt like the vision didn’t exist at all. His eyes open soon after Zeligdo has pulled away, watching him silently. Zeligdo hasn't realized that a slightly troubled expression is on his face.

But before Link could allow any more worry to take control of him, Zeligdo gives him his winning smile and fixes his hair, as if nothing had troubled him at all.

Link doesn't let him fix his eternally messy hair and instead stuffs his face into the dry section of Zeligdo's chest. Zeligdo’s chuckle is enough to bring a smile back to his own face, moving along with his friend's little pushes and tugs until he was lying on the couch, head planted in Zeligdo's lap. Fingers brush through his hair, nails lightly scratching at his scalp like one would do to a canine, his favourite group of animals. Out of all of them, he liked wolves.

But domestic dogs were cool, too.

Link watches the fireplace in their silence, eyes drifting from the unlit wood to the sword above it. It was obsidian, sharpened and polished beyond humanly possible. Every inch of it glistened in a show of raw, immaculate beauty and precision. The red jewel by the hilt only furthered that beauty, showcasing the fire within. The blade itself was spiked--hooked, rather--several times on either side, a warning to enemies that it was going to hurt a hell of a lot more coming out than it was going in. To say that it’s an intimidating sword would be an understatement.

It belongs to his father. Ganon has had the weapon for as long as Link can remember. Even in his fuzzy memories of their time back in Hyrule, the sword is one of the only constants--which is impressive, considering that time period is one that is very hard for Link to remember. He has only one very prominent memory in his mind whenever he felt unsafe; the image of his father holding up that sword, raw power and confidence laced into his very being, a force of nature challenging anyone to face him. Link wasn't able to see what it was that his father was so bravely facing against. Or maybe he had, and he couldn't remember or had blocked it out entirely.

That memory itself, just the pose of his father as he raised his sword and spread his feet, knees bent… that was what Link aspired to be.

Powerful, wise, and most of all, _courageous_.

"You know," Zeligdo starts, his voice soft and unsure. Link turns his head so he can watch the brunette out of the corner of his eye, frowning when Zeligdo turned his gaze away when their eyes met. "Ah...nevermind."

"Tell me," Link says, nudging Zeligdo in the side with his arm. Zeligdo smiled stiffly, reaching down to grab the hand of that arm. He stares off into space for a while, a low hum accompanying his gentle sigh.

"I just… really, _really_ want to meet my dad."

Before Link could reply, he was pinned with a mini glare, "Hear me out, please, love. I know you don't like it, but I can't exactly talk about it with anyone else."

Link feels he has no other choice but to shrug and comply. Zeligdo’s right; he can’t talk about it with anyone else who would give him the time of day to actually listen, "Let's go to my room. Dad'll be home soon and that’s a conversation I don’t want to have."

Speaking of the devil, the door flew open and hit the wall a lot louder than usual, making Zeligdo jump in his seat and turn around. Link following and looking over Zeligdo's shoulder.

It seemed like Ganon had just noticed them; his unexplainably panicked expression slipped into one of relief, a long sigh leaving his lips as he lowered his knife and closed the door gently behind him, locking it.

"Oh, I, uh--" Zeligdo blushed in embarrassment, "Yeah. Sorry. Just us."

"'S fine," Ganon says, voice a deep rumble like his passing footsteps. He ruffles each of their heads as he passes, making his way into the kitchen, calling over his shoulder, "Just make sure to lock it next time."

"I will," Zeligdo calls. Link squints at his best friend, mentally telling him that no, he likely would not remember to do such a thing. Probably not ever.

Goddesses, now that he thought about it, 'Zeligdo locked the door' was _absolutely_ not a feasible sentence. Not in _any_ universe.

"How was patrol today, Link?" Ganon asks, momentarily giving what Zeligdo considers a divine blessing as Link turns away. Zeligdo shifts a bit as Link looks at the back of his father's head while the Gerudo rummages through one of their many coolers. His chin-length hair is drenched with sweat, even dripping onto his shoulders. His arms are probably wiping sweat onto the counters as well.

"It was fine," He said, ignoring Zeligdo's protestant whine that silently said, as a matter of fact, Link, it is not fine. "Same as usual, I-." 

"I was mean to him," Zeligdo cuts in. Link gasps and playfully shushes him, keeping his expression neutral as his father turned around, golden eyes as deep as the sandy dunes of his homeland. Ganon looks at Link curiously, then Zeligdo, and settles his gaze back on Link. Unspoken words pass between them, and Ganon goes back to the can of purified water he's grabbed. Link turns back to Zeligdo to give him a droll stare while Ganon pushes the opening tab to his drink up, releasing the sound of cracking aluminum into the air. Zeligdo is clearly displeased about the three of them not talking about it, but, frankly, Link doesn't really care.

He can deal with it.

"You're fine," Link tries to assure, "It's really whatever."

"It's _n_ \--"

"Come on." Link stands up, "Let's go talk."

"You don't do much of that," Ganon jokes dryly. Link smirks to himself, holding out his hand and pulling Zeligdo up. Their hands remain linked as the two walk over to the steps, pausing as Ganon comes over.

"I'll be out back," He says, "I'm assuming you just bathed?"

"Mhm. Bath is empty."

"Alright." Ganon ruffles his hair again and waves, leaving out the back door. And, what do you know, _locking it behind him like a decent human being_. Meanwhile, the teenage duo head up to Link's room, which has darkened considerably, thanks to his window facing where the sun rose rather than where it set. He crawls onto his bed and sets his chin on the windowsill after tossing the towel aside, completely still as Zeligdo comes up beside him. They watch the sunset recede for a while, relaxed and settled as the sky shifted through its beautiful selection of darkened pastels.

Link is pretty sure Ganon has finished his bath by the time anything happens. Zeligdo straightens and moves, flopping face down on the right side of the bed, which is the side not by the wall. Link follows suit after casting the sky one last glance, catching Zeligdo's light blue eyes with his own. Zeligdo offers a shy smile, holding a hand up that Link grabs immediately, their fingers interlocking. Zeligdo stared at their hands for a minute, silent, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"What are you thinking about?" Link quietly asks. Zeligdo gives his hand a squeeze before flipping onto his back and trading their hands in the process, a gentle sigh leaves him as he settles once more.

"I'm debating," He says, “It's a difficult decision"

"What about?"

"Same thing as usual, nowadays."

"Mm." Link's eyes stray to their hands, his fingers brushing over Zeligdo's inhumanely soft skin, and he remains silent. Zeligdo casts him a worried glance, but continues.

"I really want to meet him. But nobody else wants me to."

"Maybe there's a _reason_ for that, Zel."

"You just don't _want_ me to leave."

"Well, of _course_ not."

"What's so bad about it?"

"The mainland is a dangerous place, Zeligdo."

"Then why don't you come with me?"

Link screws his eyes shut, giving himself a couple moments more to clear his mind and gather his thoughts. He ends up sighing and rests his forehead on their conjoined hands, already too tired to deal with anything, especially this.

"My place is here, Zel." He plainly states, "With patrolling. I'd be fine going with you for, ya know, a short while--maybe a couple months _maximum_ \--but there are people who need me here. There are people who need you here, too." His eyes open and he gently bops Zeligdo's chin, forcing the older male to look over from whatever he was staring at. "Without you, half the island wouldn't know what _clothes_ were."

Zeligdo rolls his eyes with a smirk, "'Specially Talo."

"Mhm."

The moment of silence that settles between them is warm, intimate...but gradually grows cold as Zeligdo's smile slowly slips from his face, falling back into the melancholy from before, and he sighs dejectedly.

"I probably wouldn't come with you until I was properly trained and at a certain age," Link admits. Zeligdo pouts.

"That may be never."

"I promise, it _won't_ be."

Zeligdo's impossibly big eyes come back to Link's, his pleading expression melting Link's heart. He struggles not to smile, swallowing hard and clenching his teeth.

"Promise?"

Link loses his grip and smiles, letting go of the elder's hand just so he could link their pinkies together. He meets Zeligdo's eyes dead on and, in the most serious tone he's ever used in his life, he says, "I promise with the might of all three golden Goddesses and Hylia herself."

Zeligdo blushes immediately, his head ducking as Link scoots over so he can stuff himself into Zeligdo's chest. It's a minute before Zeligdo gives in and hugs him close, another few before the lighting has dimmed considerably. One of Zeligdo's arms curls around Link's shoulders, the other settled over his stomach. Link was playing with his fingers, his more firm hands brushing over Zeligdo's soft and knobby fingers, just slightly calloused from doing all of his different crafts.

Link feels sleep overtake him not long after that, his hand loosely draped over Zeligdo’s. The elder watches him for a while, pretending to be asleep when his mother stops by to check where he is, and when she leaves he reaches over to caress Link's baby fat-filled cheeks. He stares down at his best friend, eyelids heavy as he fought sleep and, with a small burst of courage, he maneuvers his head down so he can press a long kiss to Link's forehead.

Then he, too, descends into sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

To anyone watching it would look like a normal, if not welcomed, sight to see Zeligdo skipping up the road, the grin on his face not the only blessing to be marveled at for once. A blue gift box was clutched in his arms, the wrapping a clear sign of Zeligdo’s meticulous craftsmanship. He and the others had gathered in the treehouse a couple hours prior to enjoy lunch together. Of course he enjoyed spending time with all on his friends and, although he wouldn’t dare say it out loud, there was a noticeable hole in their group while Link wasn’t around. Link hadn’t fallen into their insistence that he skip his patrol today; noble as ever, he’s out protecting the people of Hyrule Isles, and putting his life on the line. _Jeez, did he always have to be this selfless?_ But, he had promised that he would join them when it ended which, judging by the position of the sun, Zeligdo guessed would be soon.

For now though, Zeligdo has a _surprise,_ that isn’t actually a surprise--but it will be enjoyed as such nonetheless.

At least he hoped.

"Somebody get the door!" He shouts, glancing accusingly at the box as he stands at the base of the ladder. Really, why hadn't they changed it to stairs? It wasn't like he could lift his body weight very well in the first place, and with this troublesome box in his arms it was impossible. Not to mention the trap door weighs _at least_ ten pounds and slams back down if not opened enough. Both Link and Ganon had insisted on it while they were building, claiming that it would keep out any _mutated creatures_ that happened to get past the guards. Really, it kept Zeligdo from coming out here alone more than anything. 

Ilia's face was the first he saw when the beast of a door was hefted up, her arm extended to hold it open. Zeligdo rocks onto his tiptoes and extends the box up for her to grab, just barely tall enough for her to be able to grasp it.  
"Don't you dare open it," He warns, voice dripping with threat as her other hand reaches down to grab it. They strain a bit but, luckily, she manages to get a good grip on it and hoist it up safe and sound, resting it in her lap so she can use both hands to hold the door steady.

With that small piece of mind, Zeligdo takes a deep breath and grabs the two rungs of the ladder, the worn rope digging into the sensitive palms of his hands and making him wince. Biting his lip to try and ignore it he sets his foot on the lowest rung, pushing to use mostly his leg muscles to climb up. His body immediately protests and lights his bones up with the thrum with a deep, unsettling ache. He’s forever thankful when he finally clutches onto Ilia's hand, his hold desperate and clammy as he uses her strong grip to support himself to finish the climb up into the treehouse. He could tell that Ilia had struggled to support his weight and the door; usually it was Link who would help him up each time.

"Alright!" He huffs, standing and passing a thanks to Ilia when she handed back the gift box. As soon as she closes the trap door he spins around to Marin, big grin almost as large as her suddenly wide eyes, "Get up! I have a surprise." At her confusion he shrugged and passed off a, "... Sorta," Her gaze snapped up to meet his immediately.

"Is it the dress?!" She gasped. When he just smirks, she scrambles to her feet and has to put a hand on the wall for a moment to steady herself, practically _bursting_ with happiness. He grins, watching her face for a second before slipping his thumbs under the top of the box and pushing it up a bit, holding it out to Marin. She casts him one more glance before daintily grabbing the box top and lifting it, handing it to Fledge when he reached out as an offer to take it.

And, Goddesses, the look on her face as she pulled it out to allow it cascade down to its full length near the floor was so unbelievably pure and _beautiful_.

Zeligdo had made sure to list everything he knew Marin liked and combine it into one. The bodice, outer sleeves, and outer skirt of the dress were white brocade silk, as was customary for the occasion, and which beautifully complemented the seashells and fish that were embroidered into the edges of the gown. On the front left side of the skirt, a giant hibiscus--her favorite flower--was also sewed in. The back had five white covered buttons for ease of dressing.

Well, for someone else to help her put it on. That person would probably be Ilia.:eyes:

The under skirt, which was just a tad longer than the outer skirt, was her signature periwinkle color--or, at least, as close as he could get to it. It, a sash, and the middle sleeves were the same color and were made of charmeuse silk, a fabric that was apparently hard to come by these days but Zeligdo always somehow has a supply of the stuff. How he did he was unsure, but he certainly wasn’t complaining.

"Zeligdo, it's..." Her smile is wide enough to split her face into a top and bottom, tears glassing over her eyes. She quickly blinks and presses them away with the back of her hand, attempting to hide her pure joy. "It's beautiful, Zeligdo."

"Try it on," He urges with a smile to rival hers, "If you'd like."

"I'd love to," She says breathlessly. Taking a moment to hold the dress close and breathe it in, like a child clutching their favorite stuffed animal. Sighing in deep content she lifts her head up and clears her throat when he starts to turn around, staring at the dress a minute longer before delicately folding it and putting it back in the box, "But traditional rules apply."

 _Don't listen to that nonsense,_ , He wants to say, but he knows it matters to her. He wouldn't take that from her.

"Gotcha," He says, giving her a smile and then holding the box out to her. She takes it and sets it on the floor behind her, giving Zeligdo a big hug when she turned around. One of his hands wraps around her shoulders while the other gently brushes through her hair, a deep breath pouring in and out his nose. He glances at his pin pricked fingers while her attention is elsewhere, his eyes resting on the mainland in view outside the window. His eyes linger, probably for much longer than they should've. _What is he doing right now?_ He wonders, _Does he want to meet me?_

_Does he even know I exist?_

Pressing his lips together he tears his gaze away with a painful tug in his heart, grasping his lingering bit of happiness with a smile he chooses to direct at Marin, in case she saw the longing in his face.

Zeligdo savored the peacefulness he felt with his friends over the next few hours, glancing at the lowering sun in paranoia. He didn't want to go home, more so than usual--he has been glued to Link's side from the moment he got there to the moment he needed to leave. His presence seeming to be the only thing keeping him grounded. Link glances at him uneasily, eyeing the grip Zeligdo has on his hand as they walk to Link's home.

Under Zeligdo's insistence, of course.

"Are you okay?" Link asks warily. Zeligdo nods with a hum.

"'Course," He says as casually as he can, "Why? What's up?"

Link sighs and looks away, “You know you can tell me anything.”

“Mmhm. I know. I don’t see why that’s relevant right now.”

“Mmhmm, I’m sure. So… wanna talk about it?”

“There’s nothing wrong.” Zeligdo insists, using his free hand to reach over and ruffle Link’s hair. While the boy is distracted and whining in protest, Zeligdo lessens his grip to something more bearable, idly running his thumb over Link’s knuckles. Once Link has his hair back in order, he gives their interlocked hands a glance, one even Zeligdo cannot read.

 _Maybe this is weirding him out,_ Zeligdo frowns. However, before he can think of taking his hand away, Link returns his gaze to the path they walk on, offering a little squeeze to sedate his poor nerves.

That only _slightly_ makes him feel better.

Luckily, Link seems to have completely forgotten that Zeligdo was on edge. His memories _had_ always been spotty, a curse that seemed to also be a blessing at times. Zeligdo looks over at his dear friend, gaze flitting across the features that had shaped and hardened over the few years since joining the guard. They were… _nice_.

 _Pfft, great going_ , he thinks sarcastically to himself, _Using_ nice _to describe him_.

He’s way better than nice, but he wouldn’t ever tell Link that. Not for a while.

Not until he was told that first, anyway.

Their hands reluctantly release as they approach Link’s house and, with the action, Link’s eyes widen as he looks up at Zeligdo. Clearly, he’d just remembered the previous concern for his friend. However, Zeligdo just offers him a smile that hopefully doesn’t betray his warring emotions and thoughts. It seems to work, as Link spreads his arms out for a hug, which Zeligdo gives into immediately. His hug is tighter than usual and he hopes Link doesn’t notice, but of course he will; he needs to anchor down and apologize for everything. But now is not the time for that.

So, instead, he buries his words behind closed lips and presses his face into Link’s soft yet sticky hair, recognizing the scent as dried sweat. He probably shouldn’t like it at much as he does but, well… _what can he say?_ It’s nice.

Really, _really_ nice.

Much nicer than he can… currently describe.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Link asks uneasily, leaning back to get a good look at him. Zeligdo manages to re-plaster his smile.

“Positive,” He assures, “Just tired, really. Sewing that dress really took it out of me.”

“What? Sewing never takes _anything_ out of you.”

“Not usually, but it had to be _perfect_! Can’t have anything less for the birthday girl.”

Link finally smiles, shaking his head at Zeligdo’s usual antics. It seems, as he leans back into the older boy’s embrace, that Zeligdo has successfully pulled off his little sham.

“Goodnight,” Zeligdo says quietly, biting his tongue before he can finish his statement. Link hums in response, lingering a moment longer before pulling away. He goes up to the door, fatigue in his steps, and gives Zeligdo a little wave and a smile before slipping inside, where his father was waiting for him.

The moment the door latch clicked closed, Zeligdo’s eyes slammed shut and his chin quivered, his breath shaking as he turned around and forced himself to head home. _Go back… talk to him. _Tell_ him. _But he couldn’t. What could he even say? He steeled up and walked down the worn path that could whisper his own secrets back to him. Never once has it lead him astray, always providing a welcomed comfort on trips such as this, when his heart and mind seemed shattered beyond repair. Putting his faith in the ground beneath his feet once more he allowed his gaze to be drawn up into the endless darkened sky, blinking his tears away as best as he can. His breath hitches as he inhales, each breath more painful than the last. Heart burning, he abandons his wish to be as slow as possible and hurries home instead, hoping to get home before his mother does.__

__However, the moment he notices her walking through the door, he decks it to the treehouse he had occupied with his friends only half an hour earlier, muscles burning and begging for mercy the longer he ran. He hoped to the dear Goddesses above that his mother hadn’t noticed him, and that she wouldn’t for a while._ _

__After all, he didn’t quite know how to apologize. He didn’t know a lot of things lately._ _

__Without any hesitation he grabs the rungs of the ladder and scurries up, trying to use mostly his lower body for the effort. His hands desperately push open the trapdoor and he squeezes through the opening, collapsing onto the floor with a gasp for air. Heart pounding in his ears he whips around to close the door--_ _

__Only to find he’s too late._ _

__Impa is looking at him drolly from the ladder, an eyebrow raised as she effortlessly holds up the trapdoor. He tries to hide his face but, of course, she grabs his shoulder and turns him around to face her. Her expression instantly melts into her motherly compassionate one, and he forces his gaze away so she can’t see it._ _

__He doesn’t deserve that look._ _

__“Zeligdo, what is wrong?” She softly asks, pulling herself in effortlessly. Knowing her, she just grabbed the edges of the opening and lifted herself out. Zeligdo pulls his legs up to his chest and wraps his arms around them, shaking his head as he stuffs his face between his legs. The tears are already non-stop, making it clear that trying to calm down is nearly impossible. Not pointless, however--he doesn’t want her to worry._ _

__He just needs some time to think._ _

__“Zel, look at me,” She commands, yet her voice is still soft._ _

__Weak in every way, he can’t let an order go without following it. He tentatively raises his head and eyes up just enough to see her sandal-clad feet, trying not to sniffle but--Goddess damn it, he sniffles and turns his head away again._ _

__She kneels down and cups his face in her ever gentle calloused hands, gently directing his gaze back to her. His eyes water before they’re even on her face and he looks down yet again, unable to look at her._ _

__“I’m sorry,” He whimpers, “I-I-I didn’t mean w-what I said, I--”_ _

__“I know, Zel,” She soothes, “It’s alright. Come here, baby.”_ _

__“It’s not okay,” He mumbles. Even so, knowing she doesn’t hate him helps him relax immediately, desperately welcoming the hold she pulls him into. Like a child--although really, he _is_ one--he clings to her and, after a futile moment of trying to hold back tears, he openly sobs into her shoulder. He no longer cares about being embarrassed by how ugly it sounds. She cradles him, fingers brushing through his hair, and rocks them back and forth as he empties out his emotional baggage from the past day._ _

___How pathetic am I_ , He thinks, _To be only a month from adulthood, yet I’m still worse than a toddler_._ _

__His mother doesn’t shush him nor make any attempt to stop his crying, which perhaps was the source of his weakness--though she called it normalcy. He does it in her stead, struggling to breathe as he does so but slowly succeeding._ _

__“Emotions are not a weakness, Zel,” She reminds her son, frowning as he nearly chokes in an attempt to keep the tears at bay. He shakes his head, stuffing his face into his hands and sucking in another shuddering breath. She sighs and simply rubs his shoulder instead, settling her head on his. His efforts to calm down lower just a tad, enough for him to stop jerking in her arms with every breath. He lies limp in her arms, shoulders shaking occasionally as he relaxes, slowly managing to get a grip onto his breathing once more. Suddenly, Impa sits up, pulling Zeligdo with her._ _

__“Do you want to undo my hair?” She prompts, the question far more loaded than the average person would expect. As always, almost immediately he wipes away his tears with one of his sleeves, taking in one last breath deep into his core, holding it there for a few moments before exhaling softly. Reaching up and first pulling out the pins in her hair, her high bun succumbs to gravity just a tad. But still, it remains held up only by the clip he had made her all those years ago, one of his very first projects. He squeezes the back of it gently, allowing her long, snow white hair to cascade down. It was braided and coiled up--as best as it could be, anyway--and fell on the floor with a soft _thud_. He peers over her shoulder at what was now a ponytail, holding the clip as gingerly as he could. It was decorated with a little bird he’d made of scraps of fabric and painted metal, glued onto a couple of balls of tin foil that also had been painted._ _

__Setting it in his lap, he reaches over and pulls her hair over her shoulder, undoing the makeshift string hair tie at the end and slowly separating the braid chunks. She watches him at first, noting the bags under his eyes and the pricks on his fingers, then turns her attention to out the window. Night hasn’t yet fallen, but the moon on this warm summer night is out and about, the sea occasionally glimmering with the moonlight. A cool breeze drifts in through the small window, dusted in by the receding warmth of the sunlight. The rays of the sun just out of their view paint the wooden walls behind Zeligdo with a dim trapezoid, framing his face in warm light. Her gaze drifts toward the sky, settling on a patch of colorful clouds that have never once moved aside from circling._ _

__Now, she feels, is the time to talk._ _

__“It’s fine to want to see your father,” She says. Zeligdo’s hands falter while they look at each other; she doesn’t want him knowing she was looking at something in particular. “And I know you want to meet the other people in your family, too.”_ _

__“Oth… Other people?” He stammers out. She nods slowly, glancing off at the sea again before turning to face him in finality. He continues to smoothen her hair._ _

__“A few direct relatives,” She says, “Mostly cousins.”_ _

__He sends a longing look out the window, head cocked a bit. The breeze sidles through his hair, shifting it on this cool summer afternoon, and he returns his gaze back to his mother._ _

__“What kinds?” He asks._ _

__She shuts him down._ _

__“I’m sorry,” She says, “I can’t tell you.” Quickly, before he can have another mini meltdown, she explains, “I’m bound by rules, sweetheart. Trust me; I would tell you absolutely everything you wanted to know if I could.”_ _

__Zeligdo is nonplussed but… he understands, especially after Link’s meltdown. He nods, blue eyes lingering over her red ones before slipping back down to her hair, his slender fingers continuing to undo the intricate setup. Once he’s gotten as far as he can reach, she finishes the job and pulls her hair over her shoulder for him to continue his self-calming ritual of brushing his fingers through it._ _

__It’s one of the softest things he’s felt, second only to Link’s hair, which was some _Goddess-damned_ soft hair._ _

__“Alright,” Impa sighs, “Let’s go home, Zel, it’s late. You have a long weekend ahead of you.”_ _

__He nods, resisting his yawn at the mention of the time and standing while she opened the trapdoor, leaving him to grimace at the sight of it._ _

__“Really should’ve made stairs instead,” He sighs. She laughs heartily as he slowly but surely maneuvers himself down the ladder, waiting no longer than half a second before he was walking at his mother’s side, to a home he would _always_ be welcomed back to._ _

__No matter what he did._ _


	5. Chapter 5

Zeligdo huffed and swatted Link’s hands away from his hair, reaching up to fix it himself. His bangs had been left alone today, and they rested over his forehead and tickled his eyes. Well they scratched his eyes, really; they were annoying the crap out of him. He had no idea how people could live with bangs.

“Stop it,” Link chided, “It would look good if you’d let me do what I'm doing.”

Zeligdo pouted, “It's _itchy_.”

“So?” Link grabs Zeligdo’s wrists and leans over one of his shoulders from behind, kissing his cheek, “Deal with it.”

Even if Zeligdo had been about to say something, he couldn't now. His heart was currently jammed up in his throat, rendering him completely speechless as he gazed up at Link through the mirror, giving him a slightly obscured view of his own face fuming a deep shade of scarlet through his still messed up bangs, despite how he tried to hide it by turning his body more to the side. Link was wearing a light dusting of dark pink on his own cheeks, and he took the moment of shock to ruffle his friend’s hair even more, making it impossible to see. Zeligdo tried protesting, but Link immediately shushed him and bat his hands away, taking his time as he gathered Zeligdo’s hair how he wanted,allowing for his blush to slowly seep away as he worked.

In its place was an expression of concentration as he gathered bundles of hair between his fingers, deftly interlocking them to make a braid across the side of Zeligdo’s head. He did the same on the other side and, before Zeligdo could complain about the bangs still hanging in his face, Link gingerly brushed them to the side like his own and grabbed one of his many decorated bobby pins, handing it to Zeligdo. The elder gave him a moment to adjust his hair how he liked before inserting the pin in neatly and securely. Glancing back up to Link in the mirror, Zeligdo had to smile a bit.

“You picked the daffodil one, hm?” He asks fondly, expression matching his voice. Link glances up from his place off to the side, nodding.

“Hard not to.”

Zeligdo just smiles more, glancing over at his sizeable collection of daffodil-decorated items. Maybe he should've been more specific; Link had chosen not only his favorite flower, but his favorite iteration of it as well, which was a yellow corona and white petals.

Zeligdo chose to keep his smug satisfaction to himself this time, lest Link dare to swap the pin out just to shut him up.

Zeligdo turns back to the full length mirror he salvaged as a child. Large shards had been carefully fitted together with glue and settled in a frame he also had pieced together with a plethora of thread and nails. It had been one of his first projects, its very presence a gateway to a much simpler time. He smiles weakly at the memory to the cuts on his hands from handling the shards, and the pride he had felt when he finally stepped back to admire his work.

A much simpler time, indeed.

 _My hair_ does _look really nice_ , he thinks absentmindedly, brushing aside a strand that had stuck itself to his cheek. Zeligdo pauses as Link comes back over, carefully setting a thin, lightly decorated gold band atop his head. Marin’s crown would be the most decorated, as she was the woman of the hour. Her predecessor, a girl named Ari, would be wearing the same crown as Zeligdo, which she had wore when she was next to turn seventeen. He would wear his own crown again when Groose turned seventeen.

If he was even…well.

With a sigh pushing past his lips, Zeligdo finally stands and slips out from the confined space between his chair and desk, straightening out his clothes. They were just a bit nicer than his usual clothes, but not _so_ nice that they would steal the attention away from Marin on her special day. Not that they could even _begin_ to outshine her.

His gaze flitting up, he offers a small smile to Link waiting patiently by the door. Link had thrown on his nicest set of clothes, which were really just clothes that somehow escaped to wrath of Link’s needlessly reckless lifestyle--which was, luckily for him, similar to most of the island’s inhabitants. His generally more careful care of just _this_ set of clothes had rendered them in decent enough condition be suitable for more formal events, and make him look good while they’re at it (not that _that_ was hard). He could be wearing the rattiest, most hole-filled shirt possible and he would still look nice. In fact, Zeligdo was willing to say that even _without_ clothes he would be--

“Alright, let’s go!” Zeligdo declared, voice cracking as he jumped up and squeezed past Link to the door, unable to ignore the heat that flooded his face when their chests brushed against one another. Link watched him curiously, following soon behind as Zeligdo practically shoved the door open to get out of the enclosed space that was his workshop room. Zeligdo cleared his throat unnecessarily loud, rubbing his left elbow nervously while he took a deep breath to calm down, slowing so his friend could catch up. Link comes around his side and grabs his left hand, giving it a little squeeze.

“It’s just a dance,” Link soothes, big eyes caught in Zeligdo’s. The brunette watches him from his taller point of view, staring at him after he glances at their conjoined hands, unable to stop the pounding of his heart even if he tried. Then he looks back up, the blush he tried to will away back as strong as ever as Link adds, “I’m sure you’ll do great.”

Zeligdo smiled, his other hand reaching down to gently smooth out Link’s flyaway hair. _How sweet_ , he thinks, _He thinks that’s what that was about._

“Thank you,” Zeligdo replies, genuinely grateful to have such a good friend. Holding his gaze for just a moment longer, he leans down and returns the kiss Link had given to him before, his lips just barely brushing over Link's cheekbone before he pulls away.

Link, however, grabs the front of his shirt and stops him, their faces mere inches away. They both stare at each other and, at the same time, their eyes drift down, neither knowing the other is looking at their lips.

“Sorry,” Link apologized in a soft voice. He licks his dry lips and they both look back up into each other's eyes, fully entranced. Zeligdo’s mind has fogged up almost completely, lost and fallen to his... _best friend_. He barely feels Link letting his shirt go, but he _definitely_ feels Link smoothing it back out, small fingers pressing on his chest. The brunette reaches up and grabs his hands without looking, still staring into bright blue eyes that remind him of the sky.

The bell signalling an hour before the celebration went off and, with a snap, the two are out of their trance. Zeligdo backs away just a bit, eyes cast down, and without apologizing he keeps hold of just one hand, leading him down the hall and out the door to the path they need to take into town. Without hesitation, Link follows closely at his heels. Neither of them were immune to the strain the sun brought their eyes after spending the morning bunkered down in the _cave_ that was Zelidgo’s room (Impa’s words), both holding their free hand above their eyebrows.

This path is a familiar one, never once having lead them astray, allways able to allow their minds to settle in their pondering _what ifs?_ as they follow the well worn tracks in the dirt. Practically all of them were their own from years of use, both openly and in secret. So lost in his own mind, Zelidgo almost misses Link tugging him to the side a bit to be closer. But he doesn’t miss that, even with his sword gone, he can feel a dagger in Link’s belt whenever his hand bumps against his waist.

 _Always wanting to protect other people_ , He thinks to himself, _You little shithead. You need to worry about yourself, too, you know_.

“So...Ganon didn't let you bring your sword?” He asks, struggling to keep his focus in front of him. The air is… awkward, _heavy_. He can't help but feel as if it's his fault.

Link huffs in annoyance, expression clearly saying _don't remind me_ as he looked up to the sky, perhaps begging Hylia for patience. “He said, and I quote, ‘ _You need to have fun and not worry about the dangers of Hyrule every once in a while_ ’.”

“Well, he's right.” Zeligdo agrees, “Once you turn sixteen they're going to start dragging you to every patrol they can. Once the person after you turns seventeen, you have to have a special invitation to go to the birthday celebrations.”

“I know that,” Link replies, “There aren't many people younger than me that I'm close to, you know.”

“Colin? Saria?”

“I said _not many_.” Link gives him a gentle nudge in the side with his elbow, glancing around as they got to the top of the hill. His eyes settle on the sea for a few beats and, if the shudder he gives is anything to go by, Zeligdo knows he was just subjected to the cursed memory of the horrors he had gone through so many years ago. Zeligdo gives his hand a squeeze, pulling it up toward his face only to dodge his original intention, using it to pretend to brush his bangs away.

“Still,” Zeligdo tries, “You're gonna miss all the free time you have now.”

Link stares at him for--one, two, _three_ awfully silent moments--and then he looks away. Zeligdo watches him curiously, watches those sky blue eyes search the ground in thought, then offers a small smile in encouragement when they return to what Zeligdo considered their home--right into his.

Only to be completely blown away as Link murmured, “As long as you’re here and you're safe, I don't care how much fun I miss out on.”

Zeligdo, ever the classy man, sputters in astonishment, his face turning away to hide his most intense blush yet. Link rests his head against Zeligdo’s arm for a few seconds before straightening, leading them on. The older boy's grip tightens for a moment, his chest clenching with it in his mixed emotions, and he releases his breath and his heavy grip in a sigh. Their hands are loosely held together by intertwined fingers, Zeligdo’s heart probably pounding hard enough for Link to feel it through his empty ring finger. Zeligdo’s eyes shut for just a moment; long enough to envision a weight in his hand in addition to the weight of Link’s. 

When they open, they find the town and most of the preparations set up before them, lights illuminating the streets as the sky dimmed. Link and Zeligdo walk slowly down the winding path and, as they go, Zeligdo greets the townspeople with enough vigor for the both of them. Link sends shy waves, not used to much attention (if any), but luckily he doesn’t have to deal with much; most of the attention is on the elder boy, dressed and ready for his traditional dance with the birthday girl--the birthday woman.

Most of the comments he gets are about how nice he looks and well wishes, as well as some questions about his own birthday just over three weeks away. Most of them are about who he picked to be his special choice dancer.

He doesn’t answer that last one.

With the amount of people around racking up and up, Zeligdo regrettably has to release Link’s hand. While saddening him, it also frees him a bit, allowing him to squeeze his hands from anxiousness and wipe his sweaty palms off. And the looks everyone is giving him--he’s not stupid. He knows they all think they know who he likes, why he’s nervous before her birthday.

_Joke’s on them._

Once they finally reached the area for the main event, Zeligdo practically drags Link over to their seats up front, settling into his with a huff. Link looks around warily, reaching into his jacket secretively and squirming for a moment. He was probably adjusting his knife.

“Relax,” Zeligdo says. He stretches and, _ever the classy man_ , uses that action to seamlessly drape his right arm over the back of Link’s chair. Link glances at him for explanation the brunette just sighs in offhanded boredom, slumping a bit in his seat, gaze elsewhere.

Link lets his gaze travel over his best friend, first over his clothes and then to his face. Thanks to the lack of a breeze, Zeligdo’s hair hadn’t been messed up any. The braid crown as well as the band were still in place, which was good. Definitely good.

Now he could see his face better. 

“You look nice,” Link says, just loud enough for Zeligdo to hear. Said boy turns to regard Link, smiling a bit.

“Think so?” He reached up with his left hand--his free hand--to feel the space where his payots used to hang. They made up the majority of what Link had twisted into the braids. He casts Link a charming smile, “You made it happen, you know.”

Link snorts, shaking his head, words ready to just tumble right out of his mouth, only to be caught on the tip of his tongue. He opted, instead, to relax and lay the side of his head on Zeligdo’s forearm, closing his eyes.

“Wake me up when it starts,” He mumbles and now it’s Zeligdo’s turn to snort.

“I’ll kick you,” Zeligdo threatens. Link shrugs, eyes opening to gaze at the brunette through his lashes. Zeligdo just smiles before lying his own head on his arm, their faces inches apart. “You up for a sleepover?”

“Always.”

“Cool… cool.” Zeligdo gives him a smile before closing his own eyes, taking a deep breath in and out through his nose; his expression slowly relaxing, revealing not only his sweet, sweet face… but also the stress he’d given himself the last few weeks.

Zeligdo may think he was clever, but Link knew he was thinking about his father day in and day out.

He just hoped he wouldn’t do anything brash.

Closing his own eyes, Link shuffles closer to press their foreheads and noses together. Zeligdo’s eyes popped open at the same time Link’s closed and, for a while, Zeligdo simply watched him. How he could fall asleep so quickly, so easily, and so deeply amazed him like nothing else. He refrained from touching him as he wished, however; knowing Link, he had chosen to sleep lightly rather than the deep sleep he often threw himself into whenever he wished.

So, with the slightest of movements, Zeligdo pressed a kiss to Link’s nose and closed his eyes as well, deciding to deal with whatever happened when it came.

Meanwhile, Link allowed a tiny smile to escape before conceding to the pre-existing fatigue in his mind.

***~*~*~*~*~**

Ilia was the one to wake the boys up, hiding a grin at their close proximity. Zeligdo sat up first, stretching what he could and rubbing his eyes, while Link had to be coaxed for a bit longer. Eventually he sat up, releasing his friend's numb arm and allowing him to regain feeling to his limb. Ilia took her spot on Link’s right, making a face at the slight creak her chair made. Just as she opened her mouth, he beat her to it.

“Twenty rupees if that chair breaks before the end of the night.”

She threw her hands up in exasperation, about to speak yet again, only for the chair to immediately crack and break upon her quick movement, sending her toppling to the ground.

Link snorted and began to snicker, raising a hand to press his lips closed while he tried to stifle it. However, the sight of Ilia just sighing, shrugging, and even relaxing in her broken seat sent him bursting into bubbling laughter, his uncontained joy so damn palpable that it brought a smile to Zeligdo’s lips. Link leaned back into his own chair, choking once as he tried to keep from laughing, face burning as tears began to form.

“Thrice damn it, Link!” Ilia playfully shouts, just to send him into another huge bout of laughter, his fingers splaying over his face to try and hide the tears that now threatened to roll down his cheeks.

Zeligdo couldn’t help but reach over to tug him into a loose hug, unable to get a good grip on him while Link jerks in time with his laughs and coughs, calming down for a moment only to mentally replay the scene and burst into laughter once again. Ilia just rolls her eyes and gets a new chair from her father, who takes the old chair away to be recycled. Ilia cautiously sits on her new chair, which earns another couple of giggles from Link, and within the next few minutes he's finally over his fit, relaxing down into Zeligdo’s arms.

“I owe you twenty,” Ilia says, comfortably settling into her new seat. Link waves her off in dismissal.

“I was kidding,” He says, “Don't worry about it.”

Ilia shrugs, reaching over to pat him on the head. The three settle in silence for a bit, watching people climb on unsturdy ladders to turn on the street lights, warding off the coming darkness and the monsters it brings.

Link tried not to think about how busy his father might be.

“She should be ready pretty soon,” Ilia breaks the silence, easing the anticipation at the same time, “Finishing touches and whatnot.” She grins at Zeligdo, “And she absolutely _adores_ the dress you made. Couldn't stop touching it.”

Zeligdo smiles in relief, “Oh, good. The silk was an asshole during sewing.”

Ilia rests her elbow on the back of her chair, resting her chin in her palm as she eyes Zeligdo over. His outfit was clearly crafted by his own hands, the small embroidery along the sleeves a clear sign of his handiwork. The fabric was nice… _too_ nice to have been from the towns stock of hand-me-down, reused fabrics. “Where do you get all your fabric, anyway, Zeligdo?”

He shrugs, “Honestly? I'm not sure. I'm assuming Mom sneaks them in, but she doesn't really have access to that kind of stuff. And _I’m_ the one who gives stuff to the seamstress, not the other way around. So, I have, uh….no idea, really.”

“So they're just… _there_?”

“Yeah, pretty much. I'm always in stock, too.”

She stares at him for a solid five seconds before running her hand through her hair and crossing her arms, then asking, “And that isn’t troubling to you? You're not the _least_ bit concerned about that?”

“Nah. Not really.”

Ilia pinches the bridge of her nose in exasperation, “Your nonchalance is going to get yourself killed one day.”

“Wouldn’t be myself otherwise, eh?” He shoots her his signature grin, paired with finger guns to accentuate the good nature of his _totally hilarious_ joke. His efforts are rewarded to the exact response he wanted; a bitten smile and rolled eyes. She punched him in the arm and, with that, was done with the conversation.

Link, however, wasn’t pleased by Zeligdo’s answer, as evidenced by the narrowed eyes he sent his friend’s way. Zeligdo’s grin turned sheepish and he leaned down to settle their foreheads together, sighing through his nose.

“I’m just joking, lo--uh, _Link_ ,” He says, frowning over his stutter but making sure to quickly pick his smile back up. Link squinted before his eyes widened as Zeligdo suddenly leaned down to press his face into Link’s neck for a solid five seconds, inhaling deeply.

“U-uh… Zel, what are you--” Link jumps as Zeligdo springs back up, his own eyes wide as they blinked.

“I-I…” Zeligdo looked at a loss for what he’d done, his eyebrows coming together in confusion. He raised a hand and pressed his fingers to his temple, squeezing his eyes shut before re-opening them. “...Sorry. I don’t know what, uh, _that_ was. I was just hit with, like…” He silences for a bit as his eyes unfocus and, for a moment, he looks like he’s going to pass out.

“Is he okay?” Ilia asks from behind Link in a whisper. Link shrugs, glancing over Zeligdo to see if any movement could reveal what was going on, only to find nothing. He reaches up and grabs both sides of Zeligdo’s head, not even surprised to see Zeligdo snap back to reality. Zeligdo’s left hand lifted up and he shook it furiously, cursing under his breath.

“My hand’s burning,” Were Zeligdo’s first words upon returning, expression still hollow as he reeled from whatever the _hell_ had just happened. He looked down at his hand, clenching it. “...I need a glove, or something.”

“Use mine,” Link says immediately, pulling his hands away and practically ripping off his left glove.

“Hey, hey, don’t break your gloves for me,” Zeligdo tells him, blinking a couple times as if to take in his surroundings all over again, like he wasn't sure where he was.

“You’ve made me like, six pairs. If anything I should be apologizing to you.”

“Still, I don’t want you to-- _ow, SHIT_!” He hissed as he rips his hand away from Link’s when their fingers barely brush together, his voice a pained gasp. Zeligdo quickly apologizes to the people sitting around them before hunching over and clutching his twitching hand to his chest, eyes screwed up from whatever pain he was feeling, head bowing and pressing to his knees. Link sits stock still, stuck half between apologizing and tearing up. What was wrong? Are his bones weaker than they thought, and had broken? Had he burned his hand earlier?

Had--and Link shuddered at the thought of it--had Zeligdo somehow mind-traveled to the place in his dream, the hellfire of Hyrule, and snapped out of it with hands that burned like the hill of bodies he’d been--

 _Okay, now really isn’t the time to be thinking about that_.

“Why is it burning?” He asked, reaching over with his _right_ hand this time to gingerly move it around. Zeligdo doesn’t make a fuss, this time; instead, he actually moves his hand closer, resting the back of his hand in Link’s palm.

“I don’t know,” Zeligdo says, his body relaxing at the touch. “... but please keep your hand there. It's cold, it--it feels nice.”

“And my left hand is still hot?”

Very hesitant, Zeligdo switched his hand over. Link was answered when Zeligdo jumped at the touch of his hand and returned it to its space, jaw hardening as he clenched his teeth.

“Should I go get your mom?” Ilia asks. Zeligdo immediately shakes his head.

“No!” He nearly shouts, taking the glove from Link’s outstretched hand and practically shoving it on. He stares at the exposed ends of his fingers a moment before setting his hand back down, “I won’t worry her for now. It’s Marin’s birthday.” He scowls, a little bit of his usual self returning, “Of all the days for something bad to happen, too. I swear on the goddesses, this keeps happening.”

“Guess you just have bad luck,” Someone behind them said. They both turned around and Zeligdo nearly jumped out of his chair, groaning and burying his face in his hands as he hunched over. Link just smirked a bit as Ilia cackled from his side.

Impa gave them both grins before looking at her son and asking, “What’s up, kid? And,” She lightly punched his arm, “You _know_ to come get me when something’s wrong.”

He sighed and batted her hand away, pouting, “First off, how long have you been there?”

“From the moment you told Ilia not to come get me.”

“She’s got a radar,” Ilia says, “And I’ve got the gaydar.”

“More like a… lesb-dar.”

“Nah. Gaydar, too.” She glances between Zeligdo and Link, “Works pretty well.”

Zeligdo turned back to his mother before his face could betray him, “My hand is uh, burning? But I don’t know why. I like, blacked out for a couple minutes and when I came back it was burning.”

She immediately narrowed her eyes, glancing up at the sky toward the mainland for just a moment before returning her gaze to her son. “Did you see anything while you were blacked out?”

“Uh… no.” He gave Link a look that clearly said _why would I see anything if I blacked out_ before shaking his head and glancing behind him, where it seemed the finishing touches were being made before Marin would finally come out. “Look, ma--I have no problem telling you later. Don’t worry about it for now.”

She crossed her arms, “Don’t worry about it, hm? See, not only am I _more_ worried about it, I’m also now _suspicious_.”

“Highly suspecc,” Ilia whispered.

“Suspicious of what?” Zeligdo asked.

“Of you telling me not to worry.”

“I just-- _Ma_ , I just… it’s starting soon, Ma,” Zeligdo gestured to the little patio that was nearly fully decorated, and now manned by Marin’s father. “I’ll tell you, I promise. _Later_. I don’t wanna be talking or moving around when she’s coming up, you know?”

Her expression softened as he began to tense from his nerves, signalling an anxiety attack about to start if they didn’t all sit down and shut the hell up. She hugged him tight and kissed his forehead, giving him a smile before returning to her seat. Zeligdo sighed in relief and tried to relax, glancing around at all the people who were still standing up. Link set a hand on his shoulder to stop his wandering gaze and bring it home.

“Don’t worry,” He said, “They’ll sit down. You worry about yourself.”

Zeligdo nodded as he agreed, only for him to straighten and begin to fuss over his clothes, “Do I look okay? I didn’t mess anything up, did I?”

“As if you could ever mess anything up. You look the same as before,” Link told him, shooing his hands off, “Which is _great_ , by the way, Zel.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. And look,” Link gestured to everyone else with a calm wave of his head, “They’re sitting down now, too. No need to worry.”

Zeligdo nodded a couple times as he glanced around to all of the other attendants to confirm that yes, they were in fact sitting down and definitely not paying attention to him as he had feared. Willing his heart rate back down to a safe level he sighed and set his forehead on Link’s shoulder. In turn, Link patted his back, deciding to take watch for the moment. Ilia suddenly turned to the girl who had just sat down next to her-- her girlfriend, Ari, the most recent to turn seventeen--and gestured with her thumb back to the boys.

“They’re so fucking gay and don’t even realize,” She says with a sigh. Ari rolls her sky-blue eyes and shakes her head with a little snort.

“Just cuz your gaydar goes off doesn’t mean it’s right.”

“And when have I been wrong, Miss. _‘I didn’t even tell you I was lesbian but you figured it out just from my presence, oh great and powerful Ilia’_?”

Ari lightly pushed on her shoulder, “Whatever, man. And I never said that last part.”

“But you’re not denying it, you totally _would_ have, _and_ you said it last night. You’ve officially burned yourself, man.”

Ari’s cheeks pinkened, “Shut up.”

Ilia snickered and, while no one (not like she would care) was looking, she gave Ari a peck on the lips and turned towards the patio as music began to start, the crowd silencing.

For now, at least, judging by the smirk on Ilia’s face as she patiently waited.

And from a roof nearby, an unnoticed person watched over the crowd, red eyes settled on one man specifically. Meanwhile, a single pair of eyes was centered on them as well, belonging to none other than Impa.


End file.
